


Can't Believe All The Signs That I Missed

by e_dog



Series: maybe we can find a little something special [1]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Season 1 Redux, a doorman AU that literally nobody asked for, i quote the show a lot, you’ll recognize some names that will be wildly different than their roles in the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_dog/pseuds/e_dog
Summary: Jane Rizzoli returns to Boston after a short stint in New York as a beat cop.  Her brother helps her land the ‘exciting’ job of doorman at a ritzy luxury condo owned by one of Boston’s elite, Constance Isles.  What she doesn’t expect is to find herself amongst a cast of characters that will reshape her entire life and what it means to feel complete.
Relationships: Maura Isles & Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli
Series: maybe we can find a little something special [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981805
Comments: 113
Kudos: 315





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just nagged me for weeks. And Jane Rizzoli just kept nudging at me saying, me. Pick me. And it kinda works. I have no timeline. No layout. I’m kinda just flying by the seat of my pants with this one. Not taking it too seriously. In other words, it’s a WIP and should be regarded as such. Comments feed my soul.

Jane Rizzoli could only stand to live with her mother a grand total of five minutes. 

Within her first few days back in Boston, she was marching down Cambridge in the glory of the mid-morning sun with her aviators perched on the bridge of her nose and in her best suit. She had an interview for a job lined up and then a meet-and-greet with a landlord for an apartment right after. Angela meant well; Jane knew this. But she had absolutely no plan, no script ready to explain why she left her job in New York. And Angela was nothing if not relentless so she had to get out of the house as fast as humanly possible. 

It had taken her years to get her foot in the door. Police academy experience was great but nepotism was strong in Boston. When an opportunity came up in New York, she jumped. Korsak was an old family friend and had been chasing murderers in New York City for years. He was her ticket in. It felt like she could finally realize her dream of one day becoming a detective. 

But New York would never be like The Hub. She missed her home and becoming a beat cop wasn’t what she had moved away from her home for. The reality was becoming a detective required more juice than she could muster up in a city as grand as New York. Being female was also a barrier.

And that fact pissed her off to no end, but the career ladder was blocked and while she was well liked by her colleagues, she knew she was stuck.

Jane paused in front of the building she was to have her interview. She grimaced as she took in the gold trim around glass doors so clear she began to doubt the glass was even in them. She had read the condos inside this place were easily 1,400 square feet and most units housed only one person. Such wasted extravagance. 

The Condominiums at Cambridge looked as rich as the owner she had briefly googled before leaving the house. 

She had always hated Frankie’s elitist friends and their overindulgence. (Especially since Frankie had never clued in to the fact that they weren’t good friends to begin with. Garrett Fairfield would always be a prick.) But if not for him calling one of his old high school buddies, she wouldn’t even be here. She would still be hiding from her mother in her old childhood room. 

This would be better than going back home. It was going to have to be. 

She strode into the lobby, removed her sunglasses and spotted the front desk. An older gentleman stood immediately and kindly asked, “Your name?” 

“Rizzoli. Jane Rizzoli.” 

“Mrs. Isles did say to expect you around 10. She’ll be pleased to hear you are early,” he replied. His face was narrow, his skin was pale. His hair was graying and you could tell he had probably seen some things. Maybe he had fought in some wars. Maybe he was a serial killer. (He sorta had the look.) But his voice was pleasant and he gestured in a vague way to no place in particular as he said, “Please, take a seat right by that window and I’ll buzz her.” 

The whole lobby was windows. 

“Right,” Jane said quietly, turning slowly to take in the brightly lit space. Her eyes landed on what she assumed were the chairs. They looked like oversized ottomans painted in a very loud red. After making sure they were definitely the only things she could sit on, she fought every instinct to plop down and tried to sit as gracefully as possible. Good thing she did. The seat was as hard as a rock. 

Fortunately, she wasn’t there long. 

“Ms. Rizzoli.” 

Jane stood up to face the voice. “Please call me….” 

Her voice faded out. 

Constance Isles was before her and she looked every bit as imposing as her LinkedIn profile picture had shown. But that was not what had her momentarily speechless. Next to her was a smartly dressed strawberry blond with skin so smooth and eyes so brilliant, it was criminal. The younger woman had given Jane a side-glance as she stood next to Constance with a gentle hand on the older woman’s forearm and she was talking about …. something. 

Jane managed to tune back in to hear this absolute vision say “I’ll see you later, mother….” before she finally snapped her eyes back to her potential boss. Mother. Constance had clearly been watching her the entire time and barely noticed her daughter saying goodbye. Jane shot her hand out, hoped to God she wasn’t blushing and finished, “Please call me, Jane.” 

Constance narrowed her eyes some before taking Jane’s hand into hers. Jane tried to keep a straight face during the brief greeting. It probably wasn’t a good idea to ogle the woman’s daughter before the interview. Definitely not a good idea but Jane’s eyes were traitorous things. They still followed the strawberry blond leaving swiftly through the clear glass doors. 

“I will show you to your room,” Constance said. 

“Huh?” Jane said, now completely focused on Mrs. Isles again. “My room?” 

“You have the job, Ms. Rizzoli,” Constance said, almost in a bored tone. “I honestly don’t have the time to interview you and to be frank, you were the only one coming in with any security experience and not demanding to be a part of the union.” 

“Well, being a beat cop doesn’t technically qualify as security…. Wait. There’s a _union?_ ”

“Can you brandish a weapon?” Constance said abruptly. 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Hired. Follow me.” 

“Mrs. Isles, I just think ….” 

Constance turned on her heel and stopped, facing Jane. For her part, Jane managed to skid to a stop just in time to keep from bowling over her now new boss. 

“Ms. Rizzoli. I’m a very busy woman. My previous doorman quit on me and it has been a very frenzied process trying to replace him this past week. My residents _need_ their doorman. I needed no more than the few moments back at the door to see you would do just fine. Are there any other objections or would you rather not have this job?” 

Jane swallowed hard, playing with her sunglasses in her hands as she took a very long second to reply. “I need this job, ma’am.” 

“Then follow me.” 

They left the lobby desk behind, down a long hallway to a pair of elevators. There was less natural light this way. It was replaced with quite possibly the largest chandelier Jane had ever seen. The stainless-steel doors of the elevators glistened as if they had never felt the oil of a person’s dirty hands. Between the two doors was a polished wood podium that was obviously doubling as a standing desk. It was probably going to be her ‘work’ station. 

The doors to the right opened first and she followed Constance on. 

“Second floor.” 

Jane immediately deduced this was probably test number one, so she immediately hit the ‘2’. She took a place off to the side folding her hands in front of her. Constance’s expression was still hard but not disappointed in the least by Jane’s actions. 

This was the bit Jane knew she would hate. Having to be subservient to people like Constance.

When the doors opened again, Jane took this opportunity to hold the door and gesture for Constance to exit first. She aced test number two if the pleased look was anything to go by. She followed her out and down yet another long hall. 

There were many numbered doors. They stopped at 12. Last door on the left. 

“This is where you will stay.”

“Right. My room,” Jane said. “I, uh, I’m just a little confused? I thought you needed someone to watch the door. And I didn’t read anything about living here, so….”

“This is your key,” Constance said, purposely ignoring her and grabbing Jane’s wrist to prompt her to open her palm. The key was dropped into her waiting hand. “I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to get settled because as I have said, I _need_ a doorman. I have left reading material about your duties on the desk in your bedroom. I have stocked your fridge with essentials, but don’t expect me to ever fill it again. There is a cell phone and a radio for you as well. It is strictly for communicating with me and the rest of the staff. All utilities are covered, maintenance is at your beck and call, just like it is for the other residents. Do you have any questions?” 

Before Jane could even utter a syllable, Constance had already whizzed past her. “Good! See you bright and early Monday morning! Don’t forget to fill out your W-4!” 

Jane watched warily, holding her aviators and the key, as Constance’s outline grew smaller the nearer it got to the elevators. And before too long, she had completely disappeared. 

Food in the fridge. The room was ready for her to just move in. No interview. It was all happening too fast. It was too easy. 

Constance had probably never planned on interviewing her at all. Maybe Mrs. Isles had done some Google searching of her own. Jane was the talk of the town when she graduated from the police academy. Her marks were so high she was actually awarded an interview with a few major publications. Her future was bright…. until it wasn’t. 

She flexed her right hand. There was also _that_. Her hand. That incident had also landed her in the papers. Much more local, but it would pop up in the first few pages of any search engine. She knew because she had tried it. She wasn’t exactly proud of it, but she had a digital footprint. She could be found. 

She even began to wonder if Constance even interviewed anyone else. Maybe Frankie Rizzoli had more pull than he let on. Really laid it on thick about how great his sister would be for this position. 

She worried that now she wouldn’t live up to whatever picture Frankie had painted of her. 

Jane looked at the key. “Guess I can cancel that interview for the apartment.” 

***

Jane had rushed back to her mother’s house to pack. Angela was nothing but a string of questions. 

“You get to _live_ at Cambridge?” 

“Yes, Ma.”

“Is Constance as mean as I’ve heard? Frankie’s friend’s brother said she wasn’t very nice at all!”

“I dunno. She did buy me food. So not mean mean?”

“Are you really taking that gun with you? I thought you only needed that to be a cop!” 

“I was told I would need it, Ma.”

“Will you be back for Sunday dinner?” 

“I dunno, Ma! Maybe!”

“I love you Janie!” 

“I love you too.”

Jane shut the door of her new place with a sigh of relief. That could have been worse but the trick was to keep moving and answer the questions as succinctly as possible. It was a strategy she had perfected over the years. Keep moving. Fewer words. Run away.

Now. Now, she could finally get her first real look at her new home. It was definitely not the size of the condos, but even at this size, her apartment in New York would definitely fit in the kitchen. 

It was completely furnished, a nice perk. The couch and the end tables and the television stand didn’t look too expensive but they also weren’t cheap looking. 

She had cable, internet, her own washer and dryer. The stove was electric and the refrigerator was huge, opened like a French door and had a bottom freezer. She had never lived in a place like this on her own. She could never afford it.

Wait? Did she owe rent here?

Maybe that would be answered in her new hire paperwork. 

So that’s what she set out to read. By minute 20, she had had enough. She rubbed her eyes and began to wonder what she got herself into. 

Her lack of social life was likely to not change, but she was certainly _not_ into the fact that she either had to wait on a security guard or basically just hang out by the desk until God knew when before her shift was over. Her day would start at 7 in the morning and maybe end at 5-ish. There didn’t seem to be much in way of bathroom breaks.

The older man at the desk had offered to help carry her bags to her room. She tried to refuse, but he insisted. It gave them a chance to talk, at least. She learned that he was an employee of Constance Isles for nearly 30 years. He had been her personal servant for most of that time. (He didn’t actually say ‘servant’. But it certainly fit the bill.) His name was Charles.

So, most every day she would sometimes be at the desk to relieve Charles but her post was at the elevators. Charles would, in turn, keep an eye on things when she needed to eat or when Mother Nature called.

If someone came in with their hands full, it was her job to carry whatever they had. Groceries, luggage, shopping bags, furniture. It was a long list. She would press the button for the elevator unless told otherwise. She would sign for packages at the desk. The only thing that didn’t come off as utterly boring was that she was also doubling as security.

She drew her gun once in New York. Nothing came of it, but it was exhilarating to see even the tiniest bit of action.

Saturday was just a few hours in the morning and she would get a whole day off on Sunday (information she would keep from telling Angela for as many weeks as she could). If she needed any additional time, Charles was on his own and it had to be approved by Constance. The only saving grace was the day off. She was definitely going to have to rethink this whole situation if this building of adults couldn’t use an elevator for one day without spraining a knuckle.

“This doesn’t have to be forever,” she said aloud to the empty bedroom. She adjusted the pillow and stretched out to sleep.

It was a restless night.


	2. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick thank you for the kudos and comments. =)

At 5:30, Jane was up and already showered. She hadn’t really slept. She supposed it was nerves which felt entirely juvenile because her job was essentially standing by a door. As she helped herself to the eggs and bacon Constance had stocked her fridge with, she began to wonder if it was really regret that had actually plagued her the entire night.

At 6:30, she paced the living room. At first, she thought she would try to relax on the couch but that wasn’t the slightest bit relaxing. And the couch was _amazingly_ soft too. But she couldn’t enjoy it. Pacing was good. She had pent up energy despite not sleeping. 

At 6:45, she was on the elevator and at 6:46 and a half, she was at the podium. She had expected tranquil peace knowing she was up earlier than the other residents. What she did not expect to hear was the heavy swing of the glass doors. 

Or to see Constance’s daughter come around the corner and make a weary trek to the elevators, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Her eyes were actually dull around the edges, a clear sign that she had been up all night. Her gait slow, labored. What did this woman do last night? 

Jane tried not to stare while the other woman very visibly yawned. Once she was close enough, Jane went to hit the ‘up’ arrow but before she could, the woman spoke.

“Oh, please don’t do that for me,” she said, a sudden spring in her step to press the button first. She smiled kindly. “I know how an elevator works.”

Jane had slowly brought her hand back to her side and returned the smile. “I’ll try to remember that for next time, Ms.…?”

“Maura,” she answered considerately. “I also won’t have you use any honorifics or titles. My first name will do just fine.” Maura waited a moment before Jane got a clue.

“I’m Jane,” she said. Then added dumbly, “I’m new.”

Maura laughed politely. “I know.”

The elevator had seemed to take a long time to arrive at first. Then she heard the bell. She felt a deep sullenness that their conversation was over, as benign as it was. Jane was straightaway enamored with the daughter of her new boss. And that was probably a very bad thing.

It was definitely a bad thing.

Maura stepped on; her tiredness had returned to her face. Jane made sure to catch her eyes though, to give a little smile of sympathy. And in return Maura’s eyes were probing, curious. Jane didn’t falter, didn’t break it. At the very last moment, before the doors completely closed, she thought she saw a tinge of pink color Maura’s cheeks.

A blush? Maybe?

The distress from earlier began to seep out of her bones and dissipate into the air around her. It was hard to feel overly contrite now that she had formally met the beautiful strawberry blond from the day before. 

_It’s not a good idea to have a crush on your boss’s daughter, Jane._

She repeated that a few times. The more she said it, the less she believed it.

At 11:00, her stomach growled. Her breakfast had been long gone because by 8:00, the residents of Cambridge were up and going to work. Jane had seen most of them to their cars. One hopped into a limousine. After the fourth person she realized that on their way back in, she would be helping them carry their shit back to their homes. That was going to be a much longer trip than the few steps to the street. 

Well, she no longer needed to search out a new gym membership. There had to be a silver lining somewhere, right?

The walkie on her belt squawked loudly. 

“Lunch, Jane?” Charles voice came on. 

She hastily took hold of her walkie and said, “ _God_ , yes. How long do I get?”

“Mrs. Isles would tell you 30 minutes but I say take an hour, kiddo. You earned it.”

Charles was already proving to be a great ally.

It was 11:23 and Jane had eaten her sandwich so fast, she barely remembered what it tasted like. She rubbed her eyes and took in a slow, deep breath. She imagined that the next few hours would be drawn-out and boring. The podium looked like a good place to stash her cell phone. She could scroll the latest news and sports scores when she was completely alone. Get in a little Candy Crush.

She waited for the elevator at 11:54. The doors opened; she was surprised to be face to face with Maura again. Jane took two measured steps on and put a good foot between her and the other woman. Space was good. Physical space would maybe remind her to not crush on her boss’s daughter. 

“Hello Jane,” Maura said.

“Hi Maura,” Jane said back. Her riding companion was fresh faced and looking like she just stepped off a runway. The snark was out of her mouth before she could stop it. “So, what’s your sleep regimen? You looked like death a few hours ago.”

Maura seemed intrigued by the remark, but at the same time didn’t look offended. Jane was pretty good at putting her foot in her mouth, but was mildly encouraged that Maura didn’t seem to mind her snide humor too much.

The doors opened and Jane gestured for Maura to exit first. 

“But really. What’s your secret?” 

Jane took up next to her post, waiting expectantly. 

“It’s called make-up,” Maura finally answered, her tone humored. She turned back to Jane, her smile bright. It was infectious, magnetic. 

Jane unthinkingly took a step closer. “Make-up, huh?” 

Maura chuckled, “Well, I have very little time for sleep these days.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling I’ll relate to that all too well,” Jane replied, unconsciously rubbing her hands together. 

Maura frowned slightly. “Do they hurt?” Jane exhibited a confused look. So, Maura clarified, “Your hands.”

“Oh, um, sometimes?” Jane said, quickly putting her hands behind her back as if to hide them. She hated talking about her hand. “Old injury. Volleyball.”

_Volleyball??_

“Did this injury cause nerve damage?” Maura inquired. Her brows were furrowed now, her focus now fully on Jane’s hands. Jane wasn’t even aware of it; how fast Maura came to be in her space. She didn’t even have time to protest before Maura had Jane’s right hand in her own, studying it. “I noticed it yesterday. You were fidgeting with your sunglasses when you spoke to my mother.”

Maura actually noticed her yesterday? 

“Uh, yeah, I didn’t really… the volleyball thing…,” Jane was out of sorts. She was always so strict about who could enter her personal space. She was always extremely guarded when it came to personal details about her life. But in less than two seconds, Maura had pierced her protective bubble. 

Jane was just ready to spill _everything_. 

“I was 20. I chased off a man trying to attack a friend of mine. I caught him in an alleyway. Tackled him. He found a metal stake in some garbage. And well, you can see the scar.”

Jane would always remember the sound first. The sound of the metal on the concrete when the man had pulled ever so slightly. The pain was entirely secondary. 

Maura was still intently examining her right hand. She took this story in stride, no judgement. No comment. Confidently, Maura told her, “I can help with the pain.”

Jane flashed a nervous grin. “Are you a doctor? I’m not really a fan of doctors.”

Maura finally released her hand and Jane instantly missed the warmth. 

“I am a doctor just not a medical one.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Jane asked. 

Maura seemed poised to answer, but her cell phone rang loudly. She answered it curtly, “Isles.” 

Jane perked up, noticing the use of her surname. Perhaps it was her job calling? 

“I’m on my way in,” Maura said, ending the call. Apologetically, she said, “I have to go. But I can help you with the pain, if you’ll let me?” 

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Jane said quietly. Her hands disappeared behind her back again. This felt oddly comfortable, cozy even, considering she’d had only one and a half conversations with the woman. She cleared her throat some and quipped, “You know where I live.” 

Maura laughed. It was a bit more joyful than the one from earlier. “Yes. I do. I will see you later, Jane.” 

Jane very purposely watched Maura all the way to the end of the hall, until she went around the corner into the lobby. She’d had a moment to reflect on what just happened before the elevator sounded behind her. She stood a little straighter as the passenger exited. It was a stout man with a handlebar mustache. _Really?_ He wore a grimace on his face and barely gave her a glance. 

It was only her first day and each face had practically scowled at her in the same way. 

Except for Maura. 

***

Jane had maybe been sitting for, like, three minutes. The knock on her door was soft, hesitant. She checked her watch. It was 9:30. 

The security guard had arrived by 5:00 and she prayed that would be the usual routine. Standing by the elevators for another hour or two, not knowing when it would be safe to slip away, was not something she felt she could do (or that her crying feet would allow). 

She made another run to the house, to find some movies. Books. A couple of family pictures from her bedroom. Something to make her new space feel more like home. By the time she made it to the couch, she was practically ready to call it quits and go job searching again. 

The knock came again. It held the same cadence. Jane went up to her door and looked through the peep hole. Ok, _this_ was unexpected. She opened the door slowly to reveal Maura. “Uh…hi?” 

“May I come in?” 

Jane took a quick glance down at her attire. She had shed her jacket and t-shirt. She was in just a white tank and her dress pants. Her socks and shoes were kicked off in the bedroom. She doubted her hair was in any decent state. This wasn’t exactly the way she hoped to look when inviting Maura into her place for the first time. Well, not that she saw the opportunity presenting itself this _soon_. 

“Sure, yeah, come in,” Jane said in a rush, stepping out of the way. Maura seemed to glide as she walked, taking a moment to view the space. Feeling momentarily self-conscious, Jane said, “I haven’t really arranged stuff yet. You know. Busy operating an elevator.” 

“It’s already a vast improvement over Giovanni,” Maura remarked. She turned to wholly face Jane. “He was your successor. And he was quite messy and disorganized.” 

Jane found herself grinning at the seriousness in Maura’s tone. “Uh, right. So, not that I don’t enjoy our little talks, but…?”

“I know where you live, remember?” Maura said with an earnest smile. 

“Oh, you meant, like, tonight,” Jane said, a mix of amusement and inquisitiveness coloring her tone. 

“I overstepped, didn’t I?” Maura said, a flash of panic on her face. “I shouldn’t have imposed, Jane. I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me…” 

“No! No, wait a minute,” Jane said, jumping in her path. Did that sound super desperate? She hoped it didn’t sound super desperate. She held up her hands to keep the doctor from leaving. “I mean, yeah, weird timing. But I didn’t really give a time. So, it’s fine. I promise.” 

Maura looked uncertain. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that to be nice?” 

Jane felt a pang of sympathy. 

Maura Isles had gone from friendly to insecure so quickly. The moment had deflated into something longingly sad and all she wanted to do was make it better. 

Jane wasn’t so blinded by seeing a pretty girl that she didn’t observe the tension between Constance and Maura. Constance was a parent that was very much wrapped up in herself and not so much in her child, that much was pretty clear. 

When Maura said goodbye, Constance didn’t even spare her a glance. And right now, this woman had such a crushing look of defeat, as if she had been trying to be noticed her whole life. 

But how could such a beacon be so casually overlooked?

“Definitely sure,” Jane replied sincerely. “I’d be an idiot to refuse your company.” 

Maura still seemed wary, but she continued on. “So, while I’m not a medical doctor by trade, I did have to study the human body. In my free time, I like to take on learning different skills. Massage therapy is one of them.” 

“Uh, ma-massage therapy?” Jane repeated, with an unfortunate stutter. Maura. Massage. Beautiful woman whose mother is the boss. Massage Maura. So much for physical space. Jane flexed her hands. “You mean that will help my hand?” 

“It will only take a few minutes, I promise,” Maura insisted, making herself comfortable on Jane’s new couch. She even patted the space next to her. Jane found herself suppressing a whimper. She was _not_ prepared for this. Not in the slightest. 

Jane felt rumpled. And tired. A little worked up. And Maura was literally a supermodel. She was sunshine personified and she was going to massage Jane’s hand? This was not real. It couldn’t be.

It was.

So, Jane tried to take a seat nonchalantly, as if strangers always offered to massage her hands. She tried very bravely to lift her hand to rest in the doctor’s with maybe only the slightest bit of a tremble. 

Maura held her hand steady in both palms. Gently, she applied pressure with her thumbs near the old injury. Jane hissed a little, but Maura didn’t stop. 

“My hand hasn’t hurt like this in years, Maura. Maybe stop pressing on it like that.” 

“Give it a moment,” Maura said quietly, gently. “It hurts because the scar tissue around the wound has been largely ignored for a long time. It needs to be broken up. If it helps, breathe slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus on that and not what I’m doing.” 

“Yeah, fat chance,” Jane muttered. 

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Jane said. But she did as she was told. She breathed in and out, slowly. 

“If you aren’t taking any, I would recommend some anti-inflammatory medication. Radial nerve injuries can be very painful.” 

Jane griped. “You mean like now?” The situation was now less weird and just more _unwanted pain_ the longer it progressed. 

“Patience,” Maura said even more softly than she had been speaking before. 

Jane kept breathing. She tried to ignore the floral scent of the perfume Maura was wearing. She tried to take no notice of the soft, probing fingertips kneading her palm. And there was a brief instant when a throbbing sting shot up her arm, sharp and true. And she was just about ready to snatch her hand back, but Maura’s grip was firm, held her in place. And then…. nothing. 

Well, not nothing. Just better. 

Her palm felt as if years of ice had finally begun to thaw. The hard edges of the scar felt malleable for the first time in years. She watched in wonder as Maura’s thumbs had begun to slow and then stopped, like she too had felt the moment Jane’s muscles loosened. 

Jane was hardly breathing as she raised her hand and began to flex her fingers. It wasn’t no pain, but it was certainly less pain. The best her hand had felt in such a long time. 

“Wow,” Jane said faintly. 

“I’m happy I could help,” Maura said with pride, rising from the couch. 

Jane stood with her, feeling a shy smile of her own now. “I, uh, thank you, Maura. Really.” 

“You’re welcome, Jane.” 

Jane led her back to the door. Once opened, Maura stepped back out into the hall. They stood there as the silence settled.

Jane’s lips stretched into a lazy smile.

Maura became more at ease, as if she had seen what she had hoped to see. 

Jane chuckled now, leaning against her door. “So, I guess we’re friends now.” 

Maura looked curious. “Are we?” 

“Well, I certainly don’t let strangers massage my hands, Maura.” 

The doctor grinned back. “Okay. We’re friends.” 

“Good.” 

Maura walked away. As Jane was wont to do, she watched her new friend until she reached the elevator, made brief eye contact before she disappeared inside. 


	3. Thursday

Jane opened the door to the limousine and helped Mrs. Yates into the waiting car. 

She was a mousy, older woman who did a lot of running throughout the week. In just four days, she had been in and out half a dozen times and she usually returned with a boatload of stuff. She was curt, a little bossy and occasionally broke into a language that Jane assumed was Scandinavian, but honestly her English sounded like gibberish all the same when she was in a frenzy. 

Mrs. Yates’ husband was basically a shut-in for reasons that none of the staff knew. The security guard, Darren, wasn’t sure that Mr. Yates even existed. But Darren was also an asshole and Jane learned pretty early not to take him seriously in the slightest. 

On Wednesday he had asked, “Are you wearing make-up?”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “Come again?” 

“You’d be prettier with make-up.” 

“You’d be prettier with a black eye.” 

“I got moves like Ali. You wouldn’t even get close to me.” 

“Don’t test me, Darren.” 

Today, Mrs. Yates squeezed Jane’s hand in thanks. Which was a little bit better than the beady eyed glare she got the day before. 

Jane’s smile was inquisitive as she shut the door and stepped back. Mrs. Yates and her limo slowly pulled away. 

She went back inside. Charles was hanging up the phone as she strolled up. “I think she likes me.” 

“That’s good! It takes her a long time to really warm up to anyone.” 

Jane stood a little taller, prouder. “You see? I’m likable. _Approachable._ ”

Charles shook his head, amused. “You’re stiff. And a little brash, but I never said you weren’t likable.” 

Jane heard the bell of the elevator and had an ‘oh shit’ type of panic rush through her. She had been goofing off, but only a little, and this being day four and all…. she didn’t want to be caught _not_ by the doors. But as she turned to get back, she realized it was Maura rounding the corner and relaxed. Maura smiled brightly at the sight of her. 

“Good morning, Jane!” 

“Good morning, Maura.” 

The doctor didn’t pause in her steps, but she did say, “Have a good day!” 

“You too,” Jane said back, but mostly to herself as Maura was basically already out the door. She would have to ask at some point what it was she did for a living. There seemed to be no set timetable. Sometimes it was early, sometimes it was the afternoon. She was almost always returning home after 8pm or later. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Sure, she could Google ‘Dr. Maura Isles’ easily, but a part of her wanted to actually have that conversation. Maybe over a light lunch. 

“Not you too,” Charles muttered. 

“What?” Jane said, looking back at him. 

“Giovanni,” Charles huffed. “He drooled all over that girl. Just like you are now.” 

“I’m not _drooling_ and according to Maura, Giovanni was a pretty sucky, messy human being. I think I got that beat by a longshot.” 

“Well, she did admit to him being _very_ handsome. Invited him over for drinks.” 

“Really?”

“Yep. She drew the line at his…unusual advances. And perhaps the huge stuffed teddy bear.”

Jane laughed. “Not very smooth, I take it.” 

“Not at all! I may be old, but I could have taught him a few things.” 

Jane puffed out her chest a little. “Well, I’m _interesting_. And more than just a handsome face.”

“WHERE IS MY DOORMAN???”

It was Constance. And the voice was shrill. And pissed. 

“Shit,” Jane muttered. She raced back to her post while Charles cackled. 

***

Jane was pretty fit. She kept up her morning routine of 50 sit-ups, 50 push-ups and with the aid of a mounted doorway pull bar, she would get some pull-ups in too. But whatever the hell Mrs. Yates had purchased was pretty flipping heavy. Heavy enough to make her reconsider this job all over again. Charles wasn’t sure what happened to the moving dolly, so she decided to She-Hulk the box up to Floor 15. 

Jane had kicked the door as steadily as she could a few times. Admittedly, she was damn near close to kicking it down.

She heard something wholly unintelligible followed by a “Be right there!” 

“Don’t worry! Take your time! …this isn’t heavy or anything.”

The door swung open, _finally_. 

Gratefully, Jane slipped in and she was directed to carry it to the kitchen island. She wanted to ask what it was but Mrs. Yates might find it rude if she did.

Jane placed the box on the island with a small grunt of relief. Her eyes caught a large bright object in the distance and when she took a moment to allow her vision to adjust, they settled on a polished white baby grand near the back of the living room and she looked at it yearningly. She flexed her right hand without thinking and shook her head to move past it. When she turned back around, Mrs. Yates was smiling. 

“Do you play?” 

Jane tried not to frown at being caught spying the piano. “I did as a kid. Not anymore.” 

“It’s been years since my husband could play. Would have been nice to hear something.” Mrs. Yates placed some money into Jane’s hand. “Thank you very much for bringing up my package, dear.”

“Oh, Mrs. Yates, that’s not necessary. I’m just doing my job.”

“You do such a good job. And you are very kind to me. Please take it.”

Jane wasn’t really one to look a gift horse in the mouth so she politely thanked her.

When she was back on the elevator, she unfolded the crumpled bill. Benjamin Franklin was staring back at her.

That was for being nice?

“Ok, maybe this isn’t so bad after all.”

***

Jane took the time to actually enjoy her food. 

Day four was certainly better than day one. 

She settled into her seat and flipped on her television to watch the evening news. She just about spit out her drink, however, when a familiar face showed up on the screen…wearing a bright, red and black jumpsuit looking thing. It was a brief news report about a strangulation. The body had been dumped off an overpass and right into the park. 

Luckily (or unluckily?) the Boston PD was having a little charity baseball event, so they were immediately available to get to work. Bummer. But more importantly, she was a step closer to figuring something out: Maura’s job. 

“Police work,” Jane mumbled around her sandwich. “But not a police officer.” 

Maura dressed way too well to be a police officer. But also, what was that jumpsuit? 

Jane was chewing her food much more slowly as she pondered. She had a feeling it took more than a little bravery to go out in public in _that_ thing. And she had already deduced that Maura made choices with a specific motive in mind. There was a reason for the jumpsuit. 

Maura was complex in a way that Jane found all-consuming. She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to ask them in a way that didn’t make her sound like a smartass. Or a thoughtless jerk. Because the questions she found herself wanting to ask could definitely come out wrong. 

Maura was clearly smart. Shy. Unsure. Confident. Funny. Timid. 

Jane leaned forward, squinting as she caught the last flash of Maura’s face before a weatherman replaced it. Maura had been leaning over the body; the seriousness in her gaze was something Jane had recognized. When Maura had studied her hand, it was like that was the only thing that mattered. The rest of the world be damned. 

She was focused, determined. 

She wanted to help. 

“Police work,” Jane repeated. She was a step closer to figuring it out. 

***

It was around 9:30 pm. 

It made sense to her that perhaps this was a mutual time of day/night that they both were available. She knocked on the door. She was on the 10th floor. Not quite as high as Mrs. Yates, but definitely further than her short trip home on Floor 2. 

And she prayed to God that Charles didn’t just give her a random door to knock on. 

She didn’t think he would lie to her about something like this, but she was also the new girl and she could be open to a little hazing. Even by an old man who found her crush (not a crush!) on Maura entirely too amusing. Also, his malevolent grin when she came back from Mrs. Yates’ condo made her question whether he actually lost the furniture dolly. Jerk. 

The longer the silence went on, the more nervous she got. Maybe this wasn’t….

The door swung open. 

Maura definitely lived here and she definitely was already in her sleepwear. And it was a glittery purple fabric, kind of sheer and Jane maybe sort of felt her ears burn a little at the display. Which was okay because her unruly hair was covering the unquestioningly rising blush. And knowing her voice would probably hit a very embarrassingly low pitch, she decided to go with something snarky to cover it up. 

“Why do you always look like you’re about to do a photoshoot?” 

Maura grinned widely before saying, “Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” Jane said, before she remembered the reason she was here. She winced a bit. “I actually just realized after you opened the door wearing tha-….um, anyway. I realized that I don’t know how to ask this without feeling like a creeper.” 

“Would you like to come in?” 

“Uh, if that’s okay.”

“We’re friends, Jane. It’s okay.” 

Jane smiled. “Right. Friends.” 

Jane stepped inside and was immediately taken in by the entire space. Maura had really done up this condo into something out of a HGTV series. The colors and textures were both endless and seamless. It was filled with a nice mixture of refined taste and pleasant homey features; candles punctuating the look on various surfaces.

Soft looking pillows. A fluffy rug in front of the couch. A granite countertop island with black and brown specs and ….

“Oh my God! What the hell is _that??_ ”

Jane froze. Little eyes looked at her then looked away, completely indifferent to the squeamish human staring down at it. 

“Oh, it’s just Bass,” Maura said, then knelt down and cooed at the animal. 

“It’s a turtle.”

“Tortoise.” 

“It’s a _big_ turtle.” 

“ _Tortoise_ and yes, Bass is a full-grown African spurred tortoise.” 

“Right,” Jane said. 

“So, would you be more comfortable on the couch?” Maura asked. 

Jane froze again, but for an entirely different reason. “Um, what?” 

“I assumed your hand was hurting,” Maura said innocently.

“Oh, right. Sure. The couch is fine,” Jane said, taking this for the ‘in’ that she needed. She really didn’t have a plan or any other good reason to be up here. Minus wanting to ask questions about Maura’s chosen career. She also maybe just wanted to be near Maura because it had actually been a long time since she had a real friend. So, she shrugged and went to kid, “I mean, if not on the couch, then where else?” 

Maura didn’t even pause to think about it. “My bedroom would also suffice.” 

Jane blinked. _God_ , this woman. She cleared her throat before asking, “Are you propositioning me?” Her mouth quirked just enough to let Maura know she was teasing. 

Maura very visibly reran her words in her head before laughing a little. She was immediately bashful, “I’m sorry. I don’t always think before I speak.” 

Jane made the first move toward the couch and fell into the pillows. Yep. Just as soft as they looked. 

“I don’t know, Maura. I think I kinda like that about you.” 

“You like that I don’t always think before I speak?” Maura sat down next to her, held out her hands. 

Jane placed her right hand into Maura’s with less hesitation this time. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Not everyone would feel as you do,” Maura replied, a tinge of distress in her words. “I tend to talk too much, if I’m honest. I can be very analytical. It tends to ruin dates and most other social gatherings.” 

Before she could reply how utterly stupid it was that Maura was so influenced by the terrible thoughts of others, Maura pressed persistently into the center of Jane’s palm.

Jane screwed her eyes shut and bit out, “Jesus fuu…. _flipping_ Christ, Maura!” 

She might have thought Maura was deliberately changing the course of the conversation with that move, but Jane was getting a better handle on Maura’s personality. She wasn’t mean. Or purposely avoidant. She was just really, really determined to help Jane work out this nerve damage issue. 

“It will hurt like this starting out,” Maura said. She either didn’t catch Jane nearly drop the f-bomb or didn’t care. She was concentrating very hard on her task, kneading the scar tissue in a very practiced, disciplined way. “If you can keep this up regularly for a while, the discomfort should stay away for longer. I can also recommend some exercises for you.” 

“Yep, okay,” Jane said, holding her breath for a moment. But as it did the other night, eventually the pain began to subside. Her hand felt more flexible. 

“There you go,” Maura said, letting go. 

“Thanks, Maura.” 

“That’s what friends are for, right?” 

Jane smiled wide. “Yeah. I guess so.” A scraping noise from the kitchen sent a chill through Jane. She reached for a weapon that wasn’t on her side. And then a hand rested on her wrist before the minor freak-out became a major one. 

“It’s okay. It’s just Bass.” 

The scrape was so loud, still ringing in her ears. 

“Right. The turtle,” Jane said, forcing the laugh this time. 

“Tortoise.” 

“Right.” 

“You’re never going to say it correctly, are you?” 

“Probably not.” 

Maura tried to suppress her laugh behind the back of her hand. She was somewhat successful. Jane felt an odd sense of accomplishment. Like she could spend the rest of her life making Maura laugh.

_Oh no._

More than a crush. Not good.

She should go. But…

“So, forensics?”

Maura creased her brow curiously.

“I saw you on the news earlier. The strangulation. You don’t look like a cop.”

Maura paused. She appeared to be weighing how to advance the conversation. It was another moment that made Jane wonder just how often Maura Isles had been placed in the category of ‘other’.

“I’m the Chief Medical Examiner, actually. My nickname at the precinct is Ice Queen because I’m constantly spending more time with the dead than I do the living. Still want to be my friend?”

Jane sat up straighter. Her broad smile nearly hurt her cheeks. “Um, yes? I couldn’t even get that close to a dead body in New York. Think you can get me into the morgue?”

Maura was dumbstruck.

“I don’t know if I’m happy you’re excited about this or if I should be worried. And what was in New York?”

Jane sighed, falling back into the pillows. “A failed experiment.”

“I’m sorry, Jane.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t meant to be.”

Jane could tell Maura had more questions, but thankfully she didn’t push.

Instead, Maura gently squeezed her shoulder. A gentle touch, a comforting one. Jane, for whatever reason, had permitted Maura into her physical sphere again. 

She closed her eyes, took in a slow breath because Maura was sitting pretty close to her now. Jane felt more than a little happy to have made this new connection with another person. For the first time in a long time, Jane felt the harshness of the lonely life she had been living over the past year and began to truly desire the nearness of another human being. 

“Jane?”

“Yeah?”

“I can get you into the morgue. Although, I’m really not sure why you…. “

Jane sprang back to life. “Don’t think! Just keep being an _amazing_ friend.”

Maura shook her head. “I’m always thinking.”

Jane laughed. 

She didn’t have a quip or a joke. 

All she could do was laugh.


	4. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked closely with an employee that tested positive for COVID. So I'm home for two weeks, self -quarantine. I guess I can work on this now!

“I thought I told you to wear something less… reserved.” 

Jane looked down at her suit, before shrugging. “What’s wrong with this? It’s not like I had a lot of time to change. I had to catch a bus to get here, ya know.” 

It was nearly 6pm and Maura had been waiting for her outside the Boston Police Department headquarters. Darren had been late, of course, which caused her to almost miss the bus in the first place. 

Both he and Charles had somehow heard that Dr. Maura Isles was giving Jane an exclusive tour of the morgue. Which they each thought was a weird place for a first date. (It’s _not_ a date, assholes!) She was beginning to discover nothing was sacred at Cambridge. And that the men she worked with were worse gossips than her mother.

And just like with her mother, the seed was planted and the words ‘first date’ began to flourish in her mind. Her heart fluttered at the thought of a date, a well of hope formed a hole within her heart and it flowed with sickeningly sweet metaphors of love. Her mind started conjuring up strange scenarios that included candlelight around them as they discussed a case in the privacy of a morgue. Romantic, right?

Dream Maura would say something kittenish. Maybe something like, “Damn if being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as charged!” Well, no, she probably wouldn’t say that _at all_ , but Dream Jane would definitely reply with, “Are you seriously flirting over a dead body?”

And in that serious tone she always used, Dream Maura would answer, “When else am I going to do it?”

Jane paused. Her dream conversations were getting to be just a tad over the top. 

So anyway, Jane left the two immature idiots, sat impatiently on the bus and practically sprinted the next block and a half in anticipation of this venture. It wasn’t until she was close enough to see Maura’s frown that she knew she kinda messed something up. 

“You look like a doorman.” 

“Maura, I _am_ a doorman.” 

“I’m trying to pass you off as a med student looking to get first hand experience for your thesis!” 

“So, students don’t wear suits?” 

“Could you at least lose the jacket?” Jane removed her jacket. “Never mind. Put it back on.” 

Jane smirked as she did so. Maura rolled her eyes. 

The ease of their banter was kinda frightening. Jane couldn’t recall falling into friendship this easily before with anyone. Maura was brilliant, beautiful, unintentionally witty. She could spend her time with literally anyone. But she was willingly bringing Jane into her life and honestly, that was a privilege beyond measure. 

She followed Maura inside and when they approached the metal detector, she removed all her shiny items and put them in a bowl. She went through the gate clean and got her things back. Maura flashed a badge, talked to the guard which resulted in Jane officiously clipping her visitor badge to her jacket. When they stepped onto the elevator, Jane said eagerly, “This is so cool.” 

Maura sighed as if to say, _don’t make me regret this._

When Maura hit the ‘B’, Jane nearly snorted. “Wait? It’s actually in the basement? I thought that was a TV show thing.” 

Maura finally grinned, but only a little. “I doubt the detectives upstairs would appreciate having dead bodies a few doors down the hall from the bullpen.” 

“Good point.” 

When the doors opened, the smell hit her first. Or rather, the lack of smell. Which was definitely preferred. She had heard how horrid decomp was, how the smell would cling to clothes and sometimes hair.

As they drew closer to their destination, she wondered what lay beyond the swinging double doors. She had been keen on getting here but not just to see. She wanted to hear the stories. There were people in there that used to have souls. They had dreams. They had wants. 

Being a detective meant more to her than just accolades or the potential for an exhilarating life. She saw very clearly what her path should be the day she tackled an entitled man for thinking he could touch a woman without her permission. Her hand always seemed to ache when she thought about going after that creep. But one thing was clear: she was made to help people. 

There was a bright, stainless steel shine to everything even in the low light. The room was bordered with red countertops, a few sinks and other tools and tables. It was cold and she was happy to have kept her jacket on. And just ahead, there was a slab with a body covered from head to toe in a white sheet.

“Is that the victim from yesterday?”

Maura was returning from an office, putting on a white coat over her designer dress. “No. Actually, it’s another strangulation victim. Two in one day which is highly unusual.” 

“Well, maybe tomorrow will be stabbing day,” Jane quipped, following Maura over to the table. She rocked on her feet with hands behind her back. Impatiently, she said, “So, do I get to peek?” 

“I don’t understand you,” Maura said, the shake of her head small, but her expression was pleased. She probably didn’t have many people who wanted to dive into her work. She pulled the sheet back at about the same time the double doors swung open again. Jane turned as Maura greeted their new visitor. “Hello, Detective Frost.” 

“Hey, Doc…Oh no.” The young man coughed, put a hand over his mouth. 

“Sink!” Maura ordered. 

Jane’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise when she saw Detective Frost dive toward the sink and wretch. Then she winced when he coughed a few more times to clear his throat because _yuck_. He sounded awful and when he stood back up and she could see his face, she determined he looked just as bad as he sounded. She glanced back at Maura warily and said, “Um, is he okay?” 

“He will be,” Maura smiled in sympathy, before going over to the detective. “Do you need anything, Barry?” 

Barry laughed. “Can you get the guys upstairs to stop calling me Barf Bag Kid?” 

“Oh, Barry. Are they really?” Maura handed him something to wipe his mouth with. 

“It’s okay. Dean is just being an asshole,” Barry turned completely as he cleaned up with the offered towel, noticing Jane for the first time. “Oh, sorry! Didn’t know you had company, Doc. What department are you from? I don’t see a lot of female detectives.” 

“Oh, me? I’m not a detective,” Jane said, pointing toward the visitor badge on her suit. “I’m actually posing as a med student.” 

Maura gave her a pointed glare. “ _Jane…._ ”

Barry tried to stifle his laugh. “I see. You convinced Maura to let you down here? She must like you.”

“Don’t make fun, Barry. We both know she shouldn’t be down here.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Barry promised. He took only one step closer to the body and scrunched up his face. He closed his eyes to shield him from the sight as he said, “Maura and I are kindred spirits. Started here about the same time. We’ve been encouraging each other to make new friends. I’m happy to see she has one.” 

He looked funny talking with his eyes closed, but his words were sincere. Jane remembered what it felt like to be new. She had Korsak in New York, but it was clear that Barry was swimming alone. Decision made, Jane walked over to Barry and said, “Hey, Detective?” 

He opened one eye. 

“The body is over there,” Jane said, her teasing was gentle. 

“Right,” Barry laughed out nervously. 

“How long you been a detective?” 

“Like, five minutes.” 

“Well, I’ve never been one. But I can pretend for a minute? Help you talk this over with Maura?” 

He slowly opened the other eye to meet hers. He was skeptical, which she didn’t blame him for but he took the offer for what it was. An offer to help. 

“If I agree to this, it never leaves this morgue?” 

“Scout’s honor,” Jane promised. 

The two of them made there way over to the slab. Behind it, Jane spied Maura studying her. Jane shrugged and Maura lit up with appreciation. 

The doctor mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

***

Jane had made a quick friend in Barry Frost. He was incredibly grateful she showed him respect for his title but also allowed him to work through his unfortunate condition. A homicide detective that couldn’t hold his lunch at the sight of a dead body wasn’t exactly beneficial. He occasionally took a call from ‘Dean’. She assumed it was his ‘asshole’ partner. He ended each phone call looking more miserable than when he was vomiting in the morgue. 

They discussed the case at length and in the course of his research, Barry realized that the two victims shared the same names as two other women with the same cause of death.

Two women killed by The Boston Strangler.

“A copycat?”

Jane couldn’t believe it. 

She had made friends with both a Chief Medical Examiner and a BPD detective in less than a week. She could quite possibly be getting a front row seat to The Boston Strangler: Part Two. She was getting the kind of access to crime she had dreamed of for most of her formative years. She wasn’t a detective but damn if this wasn’t a close second.

“Is there anyone still alive that worked the old cases?”

“Maybe,” Barry said. He stood up with a renewed vigor. “I’ll look into it. Bring it up to my Lieutenant. And Jane? Thanks.”

He didn’t offer a ride along or to view any interrogations, but Jane figured she would have to warm up to something like that. Maybe on a different case, which was a downer considering how much she wanted to see this one through to the end.

***

Jane joined Maura at her place for a nightcap. 

She was honestly very happy to sink into the pillows of the couch after such a long day had morphed into a long night. But it was a good tired. And then Maura sunk into the pillows next to her, handed her a glass of wine and proposed a toast to their new friendship.

“Today was incredible.”

“Hmm,” Maura hummed into her glass. “Thanks for being there for Barry.”

“He looked like he needed some support. No big deal.”

“Gabriel has been really tough on him.” 

Jane laughed. “Gabriel? I guess I would be an asshole too if my mother named me Gabriel.” 

The wine was poured a few more times while they talked. There was no hurry to end the night. Jane had to be at the door by 7:00, but as the clock struck midnight, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was enjoying this. Being with Maura. Talking and laughing with Maura.

Jane sat up a little straighter after finishing her third glass. “I have to ask this. I’ve been holding it in for almost two days and please don’t think I’m making fun, okay? But I have to ask about the jumpsuit.”

Maura choked a little on her drink. Her embarrassment was apparent, but she cleared her throat and answered. “I had been studying ways to improve my stance for the softball game. The suit was lightweight. Like a new skin. Water resistant.”

Jane smiled because it was both absurd and adorable. She stood up and motioned for Maura to follow. “Okay. Stand up.”

“Why?” Maura did as she was told despite her hesitation.

“I want you to show me this stance.” And after a moment to think she added, “No suit.”

“I left my bat at the morgue. Oh! But I have a yard stick.”

“Ok, ok, go get it. That will work.”

Jane stood back to watch after Maura had returned with the ruler. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing while she watched Maura bounce on her heels a little to get into an ‘optimal batting position’. When Maura started talking about up strokes, body collision something theory and other non baseball terminology, she decided it was time to put an end to the travesty.

“I’ve seen enough. Just stop. _Stop._ That is not how anyone should ever hold a bat.”

“My findings aren’t without merit! I got a single before the body was thrown off the overpass.”

Jane shook her head. “That was _such_ a weird sentence.”

Anticipating Maura would argue her point, Jane walked over and unthinkingly placed her hands onto Maura’s hips. Her friend immediately stiffened, but she ignored the blaring warning sign in her head to stop whatever the hell she thought she was doing. She used her foot to kick the doctor’s legs apart. A small yelp followed, but Jane was determined to continue her lesson. 

“You need to make sure you cover the plate. You have to show your opponent you own it. Don’t give him an inch. Feet should line up so your hips and shoulders are perpendicular to the pitcher. Like this.”

She turned Maura slightly. “Oh.” It was almost a breathless sound. Jane’s wine addled mind caught up and realized she was still holding Maura in a way that had become super intimate. Oh no. No, no, no. She had _touched_ Maura! _Without_ her permission! Not that Maura even attempted to move away, but Jane had done it and with the buzz of the wine and her selfish want to be closer, she messed up. 

She let go and backed away. 

In a rush, Jane said, “Anyway, that should feel more natural.”

Maura held the pose before lowering her ‘bat’. She smiled timidly and agreed, “That did feel more comfortable.”

The silence was heavy this time. Jane needed to put that physical space back between them and fast.

“Yeah, so I’m gonna go,” Jane said, gesturing with a thumb over her shoulder, backing up to the door. She wasn’t paying attention though and nearly tripped over her own boots and with a miraculously athletic twist of her body, managed to save herself from a face plant into the wood floor. She still managed to bump a vase sitting on a table near the door. She caught it. 

It was the wine, she told herself. She was maybe a little drunk. 

“You’re a little wobbly. Are you going to be okay?”

Jane nodded. “I think I can still operate an elevator.”

Jane fumbled for the door, opened it and slipped out. 

And she had made fun of Giovanni and his advances. That was definitely not smooth. 

She took a deep breath as she leaned against the door, looked down at the floor and saw her boot-less feet. 

_Crap._

She reluctantly turned around and knocked. 

Maura opened it, holding the boots. Her expression was … inquisitive. 

“Are you sure you ….?” 

“I’m great. I’ll be fine. _Thank you._ ” 

Jane took her boots, smiled widely to prove that she was fine and rushed off. 


	5. Sunday Into Monday

Jane was taking an abnormally long time to wash her hands. She knew that, but another twenty seconds wouldn’t hurt. 

She just needed to reestablish her physical distance rules again, is all. That’s what she was telling herself, anyway. Because she was totally following those rules before by persuading Maura to bring her down to the morgue _again_ , whine about eating cheese out of the “dead fridge” and do any other number of things that brought Maura into her orbit on her only real day off this week because ‘boundaries’.

Maura didn’t bring up the baseball lesson. Or the thing with the boots. Their conversation still flowed smoothly. She would make jokes and Maura would laugh. And damn if that wasn’t always a beautiful sound. 

_Okay. Hands are clean. Get over yourself, Rizzoli._

Jane pushed the double doors open like she owned the place to resume distracting Maura from her work and then went rigid with dread. It was the detective that Barry interviewed for the copycat murders. Detective Leahy. And he was holding a gun to Maura’s head.

“Don’t you move!” the old man barked.

Jane’s hand had automatically gone to her hip but just as she had forgotten countless times before, her gun was not there. She was a civilian and not a cop. She was not permitted a weapon in this place and _God_ she desperately needed a weapon right now.

Wait. There _was_ a weapon.

“Let her go,” Jane nearly growled. She knew the baseball bat that Maura had forgotten the other night was leaning against the wall behind her. But she wouldn’t be able to do anything before the retired detective could get off a shot! 

Leahy wasn’t complying and she didn’t really expect him to, but she almost snarled the order this time, “Let her go!” 

It was too much, she knew this. It was too much feeling this deeply for someone she had known barely a week. It was too much knowing that she was mirroring the same terror present in her friend’s eyes. It was too much to think how much pleasure she would get out of tearing that man apart, limb from limb, for putting a gun to Maura’s head. 

But she was stuck. And she was scared. 

She needed a new tact. Her voice was less threatening and more beseeching. “You don’t have to do this, Detective.” 

“Jane, just do as he says,” Maura pleaded. But something was a little off about her voice. Her eyes had hardened. Maura was signaling her. “It will be okay.”

“Okay,” Jane repeated. “It will be okay.” 

“Both of you shut up!” Leahy seethed.

While he threatened and thoughtlessly waved his gun, Maura took action. She grabbed a scalpel off the nearby table and stabbed Leahy in the leg. He faltered, howled in pain which afforded Jane the chance to do her part.

She retrieved the bat and swung down hard on the back of the old man. Leahy collapsed, groaned into the cold floor. His gun was kicked away. 

Maura’s eyes were wide with a touch of adrenaline still present in them. “Homerun.” 

“Nah,” Jane replied, glancing at her friend, grateful that she was okay. “Just a base hit.” 

***

They found themselves on Maura’s couch later that evening. 

There was no wine. Or all that much talking. The television was on, but Jane doubted either of them knew what was playing. 

After Jane knocked Leahy to the ground, Maura put in a call to upstairs and within moments Barry and another officer were in the morgue slapping cuffs on Leahy, providing first aid. Inevitably, questions were asked. For one, why was a civilian in the morgue anyway? And why did said civilian take it upon themselves to go after an assailant with a gun? 

Maura had been prepared to jump in, to use their thin story that Jane was a student, but Jane wouldn’t allow it. Maura was resistant, but she eventually left Jane alone in the Lieutenant’s office. 

“I was waiting for her to finish up with work,” Jane said. “We’re friends. We were going to get a bite to eat.” 

The Lieutenant was suspicious but was giving her the opportunity to speak. He had barely moved a muscle in his face while talking. His lips were a thin line, expressionless. It was unnerving. 

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Rizzoli. Jane Rizzoli,” she answered. Resentfully, she added, “I’m not a kid. Sir.” 

The Lieutenant paused, looked at her with a bit of surprise and then …recognition? 

“Rizzoli. Police academy, right? A few years back?” he said. He extended his hand. “Cavanaugh.” 

“Uh, hello, sir,” she said, shaking his hand. “And yeah, I was there.”

Cavanaugh looked like he was going to say something more reflective, but instead he remarked, “I heard you went to New York.” 

“I did. How did you…?”

“Vince and I still chat. He was happy to have you there. Disappointed that you left.” 

Jane winced. News traveled fast. “I didn’t really say goodbye so I’m sure he’s pissed.” 

Cavanaugh was certainly the man of one expression, so it surprised her a little that he could actually smile. “No, he understands. He’s been trying to run a unit down there for nearly half of his career. He gets it.” He paused again, before sighing, “Listen, Rizzoli…” 

Jane perked up a little, the way he said her name was peculiar. “Yes, sir?” 

“The city had cut funding the year you graduated,” he said solemnly. “I wasn’t in charge yet or otherwise; I would have found a place for you. I just thought you should know that.” 

Jane swallowed hard, looked down and away from him. “Uh, thank you, sir.” 

Cavanaugh rubbed his eyes for a moment before saying, “I think I have all I need. And before you leave, tell the guard to give you a new pass. So that you can visit Dr. Isles without an escort.” 

Jane’s head shot up in shock. 

Cavanaugh was no nonsense again. “I appreciate what you did for Dr. Isles. She’s invaluable to this office. She would also be greatly missed.” When she didn’t move, still trying to process the gift she had been given, he said, “I’m tired of looking at you, Rizzoli.” 

“Right,” Jane had said, getting up and leaving quickly. 

And now she was on the couch fiddling with her new visitor’s badge. A permanent visitor’s badge. Pleased, she clipped it to her shirt collar. 

“I was scared, Jane,” Maura said. 

It had been so quiet for so long, her words made Jane jump a little. Jane turned her head to look at Maura’s profile. She was still looking unseeingly at the television, her jaw set tightly closed. Slowly, Jane’s hand moved across the space between her and Maura. She folded her friend’s hand into hers. It was weird, it was _so_ weird reaching out to someone. It had been such a long time since she had deliberately taken hold of someone else’s hand. 

“You were brave, Maura,” Jane said. 

“And terrified.” 

“I would never let anything happen to you,” Jane promised. 

Maura squeezed her hand back. “You can’t say that with any certainty, Jane.”

“The hell I can’t!” Jane shot back huffily. “There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to my own personal hand masseuse.”

Maura managed to suppress a chuckle before saying, “It’s not funny.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m glad you were there.” 

“Me too,” Jane said softly. She reached for the remote with her free hand and turned off the television. “C’mon, Maura.” 

She instructed Maura to get a shower. 

While she did that, Jane retrieved some strawberries for Bass from the refrigerator. She carefully walked around until she found him under the dining table. She slid the plate up to him. He was slow to move, but she figured he would get to it eventually. 

She next set out to clean up the kitchen. She put away the few errant dishes that got left out. Cleaned out the coffee pot so it would be ready to brew in the morning. Arranged the pillows just so on the couch. 

When she heard the water cut off, she gave Maura another fifteen minutes or so to get dressed. 

She knocked softly on the door. A muffled ‘enter’ was the answer. 

“Uh, everything is cleaned up. Bass is fed,” Jane told her. She was only standing halfway in the door. 

“Oh,” Maura said, sitting on the edge of her bed. She did that a lot. Her ‘oh’ always marked her astonishment that kindness was being shown her way. 

Her hair was still damp. Her expression betraying her vulnerable state.

“I’ll let you sleep.” 

“Jane?”

“Yeah, Maura?” 

“Could you stay?” 

“Of course,” Jane answered without pause. She watched Maura get under the covers, slide over enough to allow room for Jane on the bed. Oh. Like, stay in her bed, stay. 

With a little trepidation, Jane slowly kicked off her boots. She didn’t dare strip down too much. She kept her tank and pants on, climbed into the bed. Maura was laying on her side by the time Jane was in. “I, uh, I’ll have to get up by 6.” 

“Okay,” Maura replied, then yawned. Her features already looked less stressed. 

“Okay,” Jane echoed. 

Jane stretched out on her back. She folded her hands over her stomach. 

It was silent for several minutes. 

“Jane?” 

She turned her head slightly, following the sound of her small voice. “Yeah, Maura?” 

“Thank you. For staying.” 

“No problem at all.” 

Maura sighed and then presumably drifted off to sleep. 

Jane stared at the ceiling. 

If you had asked her a week ago what her plans for the weekend were, she probably would have said 1) crying into her pillow over how awful this new job was, 2) reluctantly going home for Sunday dinner and 3) maybe crying some more. 

Not fighting off an old detective that had taken her new beautiful friend, Maura, hostage and then comforting that new friend by willingly staying the night in her bed to keep watch while she slept. 

Yeah, no. That definitely would not have been the answer. 

Jane shut her eyes. 

When she opened them again, the smell of a rich, dark roast was filtering in through the open bedroom door. Between the smell of coffee and being wrapped up in the softest sheets known to mankind, she was very undecided about whether to get up or not. Eventually, coffee won.

She checked the time on her phone. It was 5:30.

Maura’s side of the bed was empty. 

She sat up and looked down at her rumpled self. This whole ‘look’ she had going on when in Maura’s presence was going to have to change. She yawned, tried to run a hand through her tangled hair to give it some semblance of orderliness and got out of the bed. 

She followed the scent of the coffee. She grabbed an empty mug waiting for her by the coffee machine. She smiled, a little amused by the feeling of domesticity. She didn’t even bother with cream or sugar as she raised the mug to her lips, turned around and came face to face with ….

“Shit!” Jane sputtered into her mug. 

Constance Isles was across the island, eyes narrowed into tiny, very angry orbs. 

Maura was standing next to her mother completely oblivious to the death glare that Constance was giving Jane. Constance’s gaze never left Jane’s as she said tightly, “I’m certainly happy that you were able to sleep soundly after such a horrid ordeal, dear.” 

“I did, Mother, thank you,” Maura replied. She turned her attention to Jane with a bright smile. “Good morning, Jane. I hope I didn’t wake you too early.” 

“Nope,” Jane said, her voice unusually high in pitch. “Just in time for me to leave. Like, now.” Jane put the mug she was holding back on the counter. And she was on her way to the door when she remembered: _my boots._ She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held in her scream before she whipped back around. “I have to get my stuff. From back there.” 

She basically sprinted back to Maura’s room. She shut the door, grabbed a pillow and finally, _finally_ , screamed into it. She threw the pillow back on the bed, stuffed her feet into her boots and pulled her shirt back on. 

Seriously? Seriously.

Jane shook out her hands to rid herself of just _everything_ she was feeling and went back out into the hall. She purposely slowed her gait, tried to appear less shaken. 

Constance was still there. Her arms were folded. Her expression stony. Jane crumbled. 

“Mrs. Isles, I am….,” Jane began. 

Constance interrupted her. “I trust you will be at your station on time?” 

Jane nodded vigorously. “Yep. So, I’m gonna go now.” 

“Have a good day, Jane,” Maura called after her. “And thank you. For yesterday.”

Jane paused in the doorway. A wave of incredulity washed over her. How did she end up making friends with someone like Maura Isles? She looked over her shoulder, past the sea of fury that was Constance Isles and landed on Maura’s sunny expression. 

She smiled. “Have a good day, Maura.” 

***

Jane was more than a little tired. She was covering the desk for Charles. 

She had signed for a package and this resident was one of the few who willingly retrieved their own things. 

She stretched, hands behind her back and sighed. Her nightmare from this morning was on repeat in her brain. There was no way that Constance didn’t make assumptions. _Anyone_ would have concluded that Jane had slept with Maura. Which, technically, was true. She just didn’t ‘sleep sleep’ with Maura. And she had wanted badly to tell Constance ‘I swear, it’s not what it looks like!’

She kept wondering if Constance was going to fire her, but that wasn’t her only hellish dreamscape.

Maura with a gun to her head was a notion that had finally caught up to her and she had resolved herself to keep an eye on Maura whenever possible. Even if that meant being on the receiving end of Constance’s heat vision for all eternity. 

“Janie!”

She spied Frankie coming through the door with a huge smile on his face. She immediately rounded the desk to hug him. When they embraced, she said, “Thought you were working?” 

“Took a day off,” Frankie shrugged. “Pops said it was okay to visit you.” 

“He is always so much nicer to you,” Jane said, a little whine in her voice. 

Frankie grinned impishly. “Anyway, missed you Sunday. Thought we were going to have a rematch. Prove that once again I have the best jump shot in the world.”

“Well, yesterday was kinda crazy.”

“I heard! What’s this about you having a date in a morgue?”

“Oh my God, who told you?”

“Does it matter? How was it? What’s her name? Does she live here?”

Jane ticked off the answers. “It does matter. It was actually really not a date and it went horribly wrong no matter how you look at it. Her name is Maura and she does live here.” 

Frankie let a slow smile form on his lips. 

“Frankie, don’t…” 

“You scored a date with _Maura Isles?_ ”

“It wasn’t a date!” 

“You, Jane, are my hero. I mean, Giovanni had to warm up to that for _months_. You, less than a week. I’m proud of you!” 

“I hate you,” Jane griped, hitting her brother in the arm. 

He feigned the pain. “So, how’s that going with her being the boss’s daughter?” 

“Not great,” Jane sighed. She went back behind the desk and allowed herself the indulgence of sitting down. It was the only place she was permitted to sit during her day and she wasn’t about to let her brother’s visit ruin that. 

Frankie leaned on the front of the desk. She noticed his face soften, pleading for forgiveness. He was even using the puppy dog eyes. She relented. 

“Maura is my friend. That’s all, Frankie. And she could have been really hurt. Or really dead.” 

“Yikes,” Frankie said apologetically. “Is she okay?” 

“She will be.” Jane smiled at her brother. “Anyway, the job is alright, not that you asked.” 

“It sounds like Garrett’s good word paid off then. He owed me a favor and I told him to sing your praises until Mrs. Isles had no choice but to hire you. So, you think you’ll be home next Sunday?”

“I dunno, Frankie…” 

Jane’s cell phone buzzed indicating a text message. She glanced at it. 

Maura: Do you like French? I’ve read that food is a good way to thank someone for being a good friend. 

Jane smiled to herself. 

“It’s Maura, isn’t it.” 

Jane’s eyes shot up from her phone and glared at Frankie knowing her cheeks were flush with embarrassment. 

He laughed loud and long. 


	6. The Following Monday

The furniture dolly miraculously showed up. 

When Jane had asked for it because she needed to help Maura move something, Charles knew immediately where to find it. He went into a supply closet not too far past the elevators and rolled it out within seconds. Jane’s arms were crossed, her expression soured. The dolly had been ‘missing’ for almost two weeks. 

He smiled at her somewhat wickedly. “I’m so happy to have found it.” 

Jane forcefully took hold of the handles. Her teeth were clenched as she said, “Me too.” 

When she met Maura at her door, she finally figured out what she was helping Maura move. 

“We’re moving the turtle?” 

“Tortoise. And yes, I have a habitat up on the roof for him.” 

“Huh.” 

“What?” 

“My job description said I would have to help residents carry things. I would have never imagined ‘really big turtle’ to be one of them.” 

Bass was in a fairly large aquarium. Just big enough for him to fit in and be transported. Jane got the dolly underneath, took some bungee cords to secure him and she rode the elevator with Maura to the roof. Maura had several things in hand as well. She assumed it was stuff for Bass. 

Jane found it a little peculiar that she was just now finding out about this habitat. The turtle surely didn’t stay in her condo all that time which meant Maura had to have been hefting Bass up to the roof herself.

But this time she asked Jane to join her. She wanted Jane here, even if she could never get his species right. This thought warmed Jane’s heart. Maura held the door open with a bright smile while Jane wheeled Bass outside. 

The warmth of the sun hit Jane’s face and for a moment, she forgot she was a doorman helping a resident move something to the roof. It was a beautiful day; the skies were a brilliant blue and she was with her friend (and that friend’s turtle) leisurely strolling the makeshift jungle. 

All around Jane were gardens, bird feeders and do-it-yourself ponds. There was a patch of vegetables labeled ‘Yates’ and a number of other boxes with similar set ups. She was mildly impressed with the number of residents that had found a place to enjoy the outdoors. 

Especially Room 14 on the 8th floor. That room had a revolving door and it was a wonder that woman had time for anything else. Her garden had a nice grouping of tomatoes in it. 

Jane followed behind her friend while she talked incessantly about the life cycle of an African spurred tortoise and the best foods to feed them. 

Near the middle of the roof was where she followed Maura. The habitat for Bass was rectangular in shape with a shallow pond and a tiny cave for him to crawl into. 

“I have a small pool in the second bedroom, but this is much better for him,” Maura explained. “I try to keep him outside as much as I can. He’s been inside with me because the temperature dropped to unacceptable lows these last few days.” 

“I say this lovingly, but you’re weird.” 

“I know.”

Maura’s phone rang. 

Jane was getting used to Maura’s phone interrupting their friend time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t such a downer when it happened. She would feel a weight on her heart when she heard Maura answer with ‘Isles’ because that definitely meant she was going in to work and with Jane being on the clock, she couldn’t join her. 

Maura ended the call and began to clean up. 

Jane waved her hands away. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve already been gone from the door a whole hour. Your mom will definitely yell at me either way.” 

Maura laughed. “I’ll have a talk with her.” 

“Please don’t do that. She already hates me.” 

Maura stood with Jane. “Why does she hate you?” 

_Because she thinks I’m sleeping with you._

“You better get going,” Jane said instead. “I have this. Go solve crimes. Go.” 

Maura placed a hand on Jane’s forearm in gratitude before rushing off. 

***

This was it. This was the opening to every bad porno she had ever watched. 

A pretty blonde girl in a doorway pouting at her while wearing negligée, a plumbing issue that was literally listed as ‘fix my pipes’ on the note and a strange jazz music playing from somewhere in the back of the condo. 

“Jane, I’m so happy you could help me!” 

“Yeah, Kate so what seems to be the…. yah!” 

Jane was yanked through the door. She struggled with the tool bag while she tried to regain her footing. She was tugged along by bright red fingernails, being led toward the kitchen. She could see the problem immediately. The faucet was loosened and the water was everywhere. 

“Charles said you were a plumber.” 

“No, my father is a plumber,” Jane corrected. She tried to force a smile. “And Charles talks too much.” 

“You have to understand that I really need this fixed. Please, Jane? I don’t have time to wait on maintenance.”

Jane groaned inwardly. She just _had_ to mentally make fun of the garden plot for Room 14 on the 8th floor. 

Jane carefully opened the doors underneath the sink and spied the shut off valve. As she reached for it, she said, “So? You got a hot date or something?” She heard Kate gasp as if she were offended by the question. She stood back up. “I can fix this.” 

“Oh my God, you are a life saver!” 

“Yeah, whatever, Kate,” Jane said, rolling her eyes. 

“Please, everyone calls me Kitty.” 

_Ugh._

“Right. Kitty,” Jane repeated with mild discomfort. This was definitely a porno. 

Jane proceeded to remove her jacket because she only had so many suits and this was one of her favorites. Kate very helpfully took it from her hands to hang on the back of a barstool. 

Kate smiled. It was slow to form and she batted her eyes in a way that made Jane feel warm in the most uncomfortable of ways. 

“So, who’s coming? Coming over! Who’s visiting?” Jane cursed to herself, quickly going through the tool bag to find what she needed. _Keep the kitchen island between you and the crazy blond, Jane._

“No one special,” Kate replied. She began to walk around the island, maybe to get a better look. Whether to check out the faucet or Jane herself, she suddenly wasn’t sure. Jane also took a step around the island to put space back between them.

“Uh, stay back? Just in case water goes everywhere. I haven’t had to install a faucet in a while.”

“I don’t mind getting wet.” Kate took another step in her direction.

Jane continued to step away, using the island’s countertop to steady herself.

Porno. Even more convinced that she was in a very weird, very dangerous porno.

“Kate, I’m serious.”

“Me too.”

“I swear to God I will not fix this faucet if you take one more step!”

Kate smirked. Jane gulped.

Somehow, she made it out with her jacket. But not the tool bag.

***

Maura Isles was beautiful when she laughed and usually Jane was all for being the cause for that laughter. This was not going to be one of those times. 

“It’s not funny, Maura!”

“It’s definitely funny, Jane.”

Jane was sitting on a barstool, rubbing her temples and groaning. Their usual couch time had turned into an embarrassing recollection of the incident in Room 14, 8th Floor and instead of commiserating, Maura was quite possibly dying with delight over her current trauma.

“Did she write a note asking to have her pipes fixed?”

Jane slowly raised her eyes to meet Maura’s. She frowned, “Oh God. It was a set-up?”

“I’m pretty sure every doorman Mother has hired has been given that note. I am surprised by this one though. I had no idea Kitty liked women.”

“Oh my God,” Jane said for what had to be the umpteenth time. “I am going to die a little more inside each time she enters or exits that damn elevator.” Another thought crossed her mind. “I won’t be able to watch the news! She’s always reporting some scandalous story at 6 and…. Maura! Stop laughing!”

“Okay, I will stop. I promise.”

She wasn’t stopping.

“Oh my God, okay. Just can we talk about your latest case or something? Please?” 

Maura finally showed mercy and proceeded to pour two glasses of wine. She took a seat next to Jane at the island and began to look uncharacteristically vexed. “We found a young boy. We located his mother to identify him. Barry asked her some questions and she said the most puzzling thing. She said that the devil got inside of him.” 

“The devil?” Jane repeated thoughtfully. She sipped on her drink. “I’m going to assume she meant this literally.” 

“She was very serious,” Maura confirmed. “I found candle wax and burned feathers on the body. Given our interview with his mother and the materials I found, everything is pointing to an exorcism.”

Jane rose an eyebrow in doubt. “Death by exorcism?” 

“I don’t know if that’s the cause of death. I don’t like to guess, but Barry decided to check out the church the boy’s mother attends.” 

Jane could see the worry lines in Maura’s face. Science was the very foundation of Maura’s life. Throwing in religion and mystical probabilities was likely to cause that knitted brow, that sense of uncertainty. She picked up the wine bottle and poured more into Maura’s glass. Her friend’s curious expression was not a surprise. She then poured some more in hers. She gave Maura a supportive smile. 

“So, if an exorcism doesn’t make sense, let’s figure out what does.” 

“Okay.” 

Jane nodded. “Okay. He was smothered with a burning down pillow while he drank candle wax.”

“No!” Maura replied, almost horrified by the suggestion. 

Jane smirked. 

Maura rolled her eyes. “This is not helping.”

“What isn’t helping?” 

“You. Joking.”

“There will never be a time that I don’t joke, Maura.” 

“You don’t find it the least bit insensitive?” 

Jane instinctively reached across the countertop, took Maura’s hand into her own. Grabbing Maura’s hand had become second nature to her now. It was scary.

“I don’t joke to be insensitive or to make light of a horrible situation. This young boy? His death sounds violent, unspeakable. And I hurt for him. I hurt so much; I don’t have another way to channel it. But I can stop if you….” 

“Don’t change, Jane,” Maura interrupted her. “I shouldn’t have made you feel guilty. You have, without a doubt, helped me through my transition at the precinct. You have helped Barry. He finds your acerbic humor comforting, actually.” 

Jane felt heartened by this. So much so, she felt compelled to tell Maura more about her past. To open up in a way that showed she was more than her jokes.

“Did I tell you why I wanted to be a cop? Why I uprooted everything, moved to New York?” 

“You said an incident in your youth inspired you. You saved a friend from being assaulted.” 

“That was part of it,” Jane said. “My friend was actually my first girlfriend. This crackhead found us alone in the park. It was nearly dusk. We knew it wasn’t safe, but we were hiding who we were from our families. He grabbed her, I pushed him. And then I got _so_ angry.” 

“You chased him.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t _need_ to,” Jane said in frustration. “Caught him in an alleyway. He was high. That was probably why I _could_ catch him, push him around a little. Until he found some strength. Knocked me down. We struggled. I don’t even know where he found the stake. I always hear the scrape against the concrete before I feel the pain.” 

Maura squeezed their joined hands a little bit tighter. “Jane. . .”

Jane laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It’s okay, really. I guess the point I’m trying to make is, I’ve been chasing that guy for years while simultaneously running away from my mistake. I went into the academy instead of going to BCU. I applied over and over to get into the BPD. I regularly talked to my friend, Korsak, until finally he said he could get me in at his precinct. I moved to New York.” 

“Why did you move back?” 

“Because I was stuck being a beat cop unable to do more. I followed the news, listened to the scanners. I would hear about all the victims and I couldn’t help them. Not from my patrol car. I missed my family, my home. It wasn’t the right fit, the right time.” Jane paused, not realizing how much her soul was aching, telling this story she had not told anyone in such great detail. She added gloomily, “And now I’m a doorman.” 

Jane had taken a gulp of wine before she realized Maura was studying her face. The silence had softened, become peaceful. Before Jane could move, the pad of Maura’s thumb slowly swiped across her cheek, just below her unexpectedly teary eye. She was mortified but she allowed Maura’s palm to cup her cheek in the most loving gesture Jane had ever been given. 

“You are so much more than a doorman, Jane Rizzoli.” 

Jane blinked a few times. 

“Stop being nice because I’m crying.” 

Maura smiled, as she let her hand fall away. “Let me rephrase. You are more than a doorman _to me_. You are my friend. Dare I say, my best friend. Your kindness, your determination to be a rock for people you hardly know. Myself, Barry, Mrs. Yates and even Kitty. You could do your job without speaking to any of us, but you do. You bring smiles to faces that I haven’t seen smile in years. Hear me, Jane, when I say you are more than you give yourself credit for.” 

Jane’s laugh was watery. “Now I’m crying for a different reason. Thanks for that.” 

Maura chuckled, rose from her seat, coaxed Jane into doing the same. She enveloped Jane into the warmest embrace.


	7. A Day in The Life

“It was Garrett’s brother.” 

Jane wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. 

She could see that Maura’s distress wasn’t merely run of the mill murder victim sympathy. Maura knew Adam Fairfield as more than an acquaintance. And Jane’s chest seemed to shrink in on itself, becoming a little tight with anxiety as she was given the harsh reminder that Maura Isles was way out of her league. Like, gold leaf in a bar of chocolate represented Maura and Garrett. 

Jane was barely peanut M&M’s. 

“Were you close?” 

“I dated Garrett. So, Adam was certainly in my life during that time.” 

Jane swallowed hard. “Garrett was your boyfriend.” 

Maura nodded. Her voice definitely carried a nostalgic tone. “My time with Garrett was fleeting. He was one of the few suitors my mother set me up with that didn’t find me odd or peculiar.”

“It was serious,” Jane concluded. She knew she was failing at not sounding dejected.

“I was 20. Everything felt serious,” Maura said wearily. “Garrett spent a lot of time partying. It wasn’t really something I was interested in. I began to fear that he wasn’t being honest about his activities. I ended it. I was afraid he would break my heart, so I broke his.” 

“Damn, I kinda figured you’d be a heartbreaker,” Jane said, leaning just enough to bump shoulders with Maura. It was couch time. Her favorite activity. She felt Maura laugh rather than heard it. 

“His lifestyle also interfered with my goals,” Maura said. “I felt it was for the best.” 

“No judgment here, I promise,” Jane replied earnestly. “My relationship history isn’t necessarily without its ups and downs.”

Maura nodded. “This might be a lot to ask of you but they are having a memorial dinner. Would you go with me?”

Jane felt her heart beat just a little bit faster at the request. She rubbed her hands nervously. “I dunno, Maura. I would stick out like a sore thumb. I wouldn’t belong there.” 

Maura reached over to gently hold her damaged hand, to cease her nervous habit. “You would be with me which means you would undoubtedly belong there.” 

Jane chuckled lowly. “Way to make a girl feel special.” She was flexing her free hand now, for lack of anything else to distract her from her nerves. She gave one last ditch attempt to convince Maura it wasn’t a good idea. “I mean, I don’t have anything fancy to wear.” 

“I’ll buy you something,” Maura said. She suggested this without hesitancy. 

“You do realize you’re acting like my sugar mama, right?” 

Maura’s expression was blank. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Of course, you don’t,” Jane said, eyes to the sky as if in prayer. “Okay, I’ll go with you. If it helps, then I’ll go with you.” 

Maura smiled in appreciation. 

Jane shook her head. She was _so_ whipped.

***

Jane tugged on the waist of the dress. Maura lightly admonished her with a tap on her hand. Admittedly, the dress was a great fit. She hadn’t really put much thought into what to wear underneath it though and that was part of her discomfort. The other part was not recognizing herself in the mirror. 

“It’s a good color on you!” Maura had effused at the boutique. And Jane did like it. A bold blue, with a very low V-shaped neckline and no sleeves. It was the fanciest thing she had ever worn. 

She still felt so out of place.

She was all dressed up and she looked damn good too, but in each mirror and shiny surface littered throughout the house, she saw the reflection of a fraud.

The Fairfield family pulled out all the stops for this memorial, which seemed like a complete misnomer. Memorial? Hardly. The family would occasionally break out into laughter. Jane maybe wouldn’t have found that odd, but listening to conversations as they walked by indicated that Adam was hardly the subject of these discussions. His family wasn’t reminiscing on something that Adam did or said.

It felt like a dinner party. A disservice to his memory.

But maybe there wasn’t anything good to say about him. Jane certainly didn’t know of any redeeming qualities in Garrett. In fact, Sumner (his other brother) and Garrett were tight-lipped and brooding. They certainly didn’t act as if they were in mourning.

Maura was mingling but she was sure to keep Jane by her side. She would occasionally lead her by the hand to meet a friend or someone in Adam’s family. The touch was always brief and Jane knew it was merely meant to point her in the right direction, but God each time Maura reached for her she forgot how to breathe.

And Maura Isles was completely oblivious to Jane’s predicament. She had to be if she couldn’t detect the desperate clasp of fingers Jane would employ whenever their hands connected. Or she would have seen the occasional blush that Jane’s hair couldn’t hide since she had been encouraged to wear an up do. She might have picked up on Jane’s admiring gaze when she was too slow to realize she had been caught.

Maura was radiant. Her dress was an olive green and it shimmered in the light. Her hair was golden curls upon curls resting on her shoulders and going down her back. She was simply breathtaking.

And while it seemed Maura was both appropriately sad and joyful to be in the company of the Fairfield family, Jane could sense Maura’s trepidation. She was the medical examiner for Adam’s case and Garrett knew that.

“Do we know how it happened? He was too skilled a sailor to simply fall and bump his head.”

“You know I can’t discuss details with you, Garrett,” Maura reminded him gently. “I can promise you I will figure out what happened.”

He finally seemed to notice Jane. He smiled cordially. “Jane, right?”

“Yeah,” Jane said with a curt nod.

“I hear you take up a lot of Maura’s time these days.”

Jane smiled in an attempt to keep from grumbling. The next time she saw Charles or Darren, she was going to kill them. Or sew their mouths shut.

“I work in her building,” Jane ground out between her teeth.

“Of course,” Garrett said. “Giovanni worked there too, if I’m not mistaken.”

At the mention of Giovanni, Maura finally picked up on what was happening. “Garrett, that’s hardly appropriate.”

“Huh,” he said, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “I didn’t mean to offend. I just merely wanted to say I’m happy when you are happy, Maura.”

Maura didn’t seem to know what to say, but Jane did.

“She is very happy,” Jane bit out. She maintained her smile, barely. “So, where is Frankie? I would think you would want him here.”

Garrett sniffed. “He said he couldn’t make it.”

“Huh,” Jane said, mimicking his earlier answer. “You have my condolences, _Garrett_.”

She said his name in a way that left little to the imagination about her feelings. He may have said a nice word or two to Constance, but Jane was good at her job and she would have nailed that interview without his supposed help. She certainly didn’t need to pay any mind to his disfavor. 

Jane walked away briskly, not giving anyone a chance to stop her. She almost got turned around in the frustratingly large foyer before she found the front door, stepped out on to the porch and took in a deep breath of fresh air.

Garrett had always been such a prick. It was hard to imagine that he had ever been Maura’s. 

“Jane?”

Maura’s voice was soft. 

Jane turned around. “I’m sorry, Maura. I didn’t mean to mess up in there.”

“He clearly was antagonizing you,” Maura said. “I can’t say that Jealous Garrett is my favorite person.”

“He has no reason to be jealous, Maura,” Jane sighed. “He could give you everything, you know that, right? What do I even bring to this relat-…” 

Jane managed to derail her own train of thought before she said too much more. Learning about Garrett and his ties to Maura, confirming again that Garrett was an awful friend to Frankie and just feeling inadequate in general had consumed her. 

It had her mourning a relationship with Maura that she didn’t even have in the first place.

Maura had been watching her gather herself. She was patient, just like she always was. She bypassed Jane’s stumbling words as she usually did. 

“Any material thing that Garrett could buy me I can already afford,” Maura finally said, stepping closer to Jane. With a tilt of her head, her eyes probing as she observed, “I’ve never seen you this way.” 

Jane asked warily, “This way?” 

“Doubting.” 

Jane shook her head. “I’m not doubting anything.” 

“I mean, doubting yourself.” 

Jane scoffed. “Me? I’m great, Maura. I’m fine. I’m just not into stuff like…this.” Jane tugged at her dress again bashfully. “This isn’t me, ya know?” 

“You don’t see it, do you?” Maura said incredulous. “You are gorgeous, my friend.” 

Jane’s brain short-circuited, unable to process what she just heard. “Uh, you think…me?” 

Maura laughed. It was melodic. “I don’t think. I _know_. And you do make me happy, in a way that Garrett never could. Don’t sell yourself short, Jane.”

Jane felt it; her heart swelled nearly twice in size. Maura had not once expressed any exasperation while Jane questioned her right to be here. She just accepted her. She thought she was gorgeous and was totally accepting her. 

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Jane said, a little in awe of her friend’s kindness. 

“Maybe for the same reasons you put up with me,” Maura surmised.

Before Jane could even process _that_ statement, Maura hooked her arm into Jane’s, led them down the steps to the line of cars in the drive.

Jane was bemused. “Where are we going? We’re missing the ‘dinner’ part of this memorial dinner.”

“Home,” Maura said simply. “I have some leftover gnocchi that shouldn’t go to waste.”

“You made gnocchi?”

“You mentioned it the other day. I thought I would give it a try. I decided to go with the potato variety. You can let me know what you think?”

They paused at Maura’s car, looking at each other over the roof. Jane felt a lot of her worries fall away, having her friend beam at her with a tenderhearted smile. Her friend saying ‘home’ as if the condo on Floor 10 was actually her home too. 

Jane smiled back. “Yeah, okay. I would like that.”

Later, she would make Maura promise that she would never tell Angela how amazing her gnocchi tasted and that it rivaled the old Rizzoli family recipe. 

***

The days bled together. Sunday had finally arrived. 

Jane slipped in through the front door. Or she tried to. 

Her father and Frankie were in the family room already yelling at sports on the television. They turned to the sound of the door and they both shouted in unison, ‘Janie!’

Since starting her job, she hadn’t been home for one Sunday dinner. And that was unconscionable. Her mother was literally calling her everyday leaving messages. She decided it was time to make an appearance to put an end to the nagging. 

She also wanted to share the unfortunate news about Garrett Fairfield to Frankie. 

“He killed Adam?” 

“Maura figured it out. He was the only person she knew strong enough to swim in from a mile off shore. I’ve never seen her so disappointed.” 

“Yeah, I bet she was,” Frankie said. 

They had both retired to the back porch after dinner, the sun beginning to set. Jane sipped on her beer and nodded. “Yeah, Frankie. I’m sorry.” 

Frankie pulled at his beer. After a long swallow, he shrugged. “Eh, don’t be. Garrett was an ass.” 

Jane pulled her bottle away from her mouth, surprised by this answer. “Um, excuse me? I thought you and Garrett were best friends.” 

Frankie laughed. “Hardly. I mean, he was chill for a while. Then he went off to college and left me behind. Sure, he would call for a designated driver every once in a while. And because I’m not a dick, I would go pick him up. But he stopped being a friend a long time ago.” 

“I think Garrett took a lot of the people in his life for granted,” Jane concluded, finishing off her drink. “He’ll have a long time to think about that inside his cell.” 

Jane felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She retrieved it to check the message. It was Maura asking how dinner had gone. She quickly typed that dinner had gone surprisingly well. 

“Is it her?” Frankie asked. His voice was kind, not teasing. She looked up at him to see his gaze was warm, almost hopeful. “She makes you happy?” 

Overcome with shyness, Jane ducked her head. “For weeks I’ve been trying to tell myself to get past it. She’s my friend.”

“Well, the basic foundation of any great romance is a great friendship,” Frankie argued. 

“She’s not gay, Frankie and even if she was…” Jane’s voice trailed off. “I felt like such an idiot at that dinner.” 

“She invited you, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And she’s still your friend?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then don’t worry about it!”

Jane laughed. “Oh yeah. No worrying. I’ll get right on that.” She paused for a moment before adding nervously, “She said I was gorgeous.” 

Frankie nearly shot up out of his seat. “She said _what?_ Jane! She’s clearly attracted to you!” 

“ _Nooo,_ Maura is just really into fashion and stuff and was complimenting how I looked in that stupid expensive dress she bought me.” 

“She _bought_ you a dress!? For Christ’s sake, Jane!” Frankie had begun to laugh in earnest and nearly dropped his drink. “That woman is in love with you!” 

Jane’s ears began to feel hot. “Frankie, she is _not_ in love with me. She has repeatedly called me her friend. We’re friends.” 

“Whatever you say, sis,” Frankie answered, still chuckling as he lifted his beer back to his lips. “Friends don’t buy friends fancy dresses to be nice. You were her arm candy, Jane. She wanted you to look good, to show you off.” 

Jane snorted. “Uh, no. Maura doesn’t operate that way. Believe me when I say, she bought the dress because I literally didn’t have one.” 

“Okay,” Frankie conceded. “So, she didn’t buy it to show you off, whatever. But wouldn’t it be something if when she first saw you slip that dress on, her entire world changed? Because maybe at first, she thought she was helping out her friend, but ended up opening her eyes to new possibilities?”

They let those questions hang in the air for a moment before they both succumbed to a fit of giggles. 

“Okay, Dr Ruth!” 

“She said you were gorgeous!” 

“I know. I was there.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe Maura Isles is gonna be your girlfriend!” 

“Frankie!” 


	8. The Third Yoga Class

Whoever invented the ‘downward dog’ was going to get a very nasty review from Jane Rizzoli. 

Maura moved effortlessly through the yoga motions because of course she would. There was not one single thing that Jane could think of that Maura didn’t excel at (she wasn’t going to count the baseball thing). There was also not one thing she could think of that Maura didn’t look good in while doing it. 

Yoga pants. Good. God. In. Heaven. 

The poses were hard enough. Concentration was another problem.

Maura wasn’t just beautiful. She was crazy strong, if these yoga poses were anything to go by. Her transitions were flawless, her muscles flexed just so when needing to exert more power. It was too much to process. 

Not to mention, Jane’s pride was slightly wounded. Her strength was being tested and she was utterly failing to impress. 

And Maura was just so _so_ pretty.

But she wasn’t the only distraction. 

Occasionally, Jane spied a young guy staring at her and it sort of made her skin crawl. This had been the third class she’d attended and Jorge was in her periphery almost all the time. As Jane struggled back up into a standing position, she griped, “Maura, he’s staring again.”

Maura breathed out slowly, then smiled. “He finds you attractive.” 

Jane rolled her eyes. “I kinda feel like I got ‘butch’ written all over me. He has got to sense I’m not into him, like, at all.”

“You mean because you keep glaring at him?”

“God, I wish he would just ask me out so I can turn him down already!” She turned and was suddenly face to face with the yoga instructor. “Uh, hey.” 

“You have a penchant for disturbing this class with your …. chatter.” 

“Sorry,” Jane said. She had apologized in this class a grand total of a hundred times so far. 

Maura’s phone rang. She quickly retrieved it, shooting an apologetic look to the instructor. “Isles.”

To Jane’s dismay, he didn’t scold her. She looked at him unbelievingly. “Really? Her phone has gone off in this class _at least_ four times! You’re not yelling at her!” 

“Class dismissed!” 

“Of course,” Jane said, throwing her hands up. “End the class instead of having a discussion like two adults!”

“Jane?”

“What?” Jane almost shouted turning back to Maura. 

“Do you want to join me?” 

Jane paused. She stepped closer to Maura and said almost conspiratorially, “You mean, go with you to a crime scene?” 

“Honestly, I don’t have time to drive you back home and then get to the scene. Are you familiar with Merch? It’s only a few blocks from here.” 

Jane definitely knew about Merch. She quickly rolled up her mat. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Maura smiled at her enthusiasm. “Gabriel is away this weekend, so it will just be Barry and a few other officers guarding.” 

“While the brass is away, Jane gets to play. I got it. How close can I get?”

“You can’t go past the yellow tape.” 

“Bet you I can.” 

“Jane…” Maura’s tone was full of warning. 

Jane’s smile only grew wider. 

***

Detective Barry Frost saw their car pulling up to the scene. He ducked under the tape and was at the car just as they both stepped out. He looked at them both funnily (probably because they were both in workout gear) before looking at Maura more directly. “You got Jane to do yoga?” 

Jane sighed. “No, it was my idea. I _love_ yoga.” 

Barry chuckled before motioning for them to follow. 

Jane felt a bit of a thrill race through her as she stayed a couple of steps behind the other two. Barry didn’t really bat an eye at her being here and she was beyond appreciative. He took them to the tape and then followed it up to the chain link fence that surrounded the back of the building. He turned to Jane and said, “This is as close as I can get you. And if Cavanaugh shows up ….” 

“You don’t know me, you didn’t know I was here, yadda, yadda. I know! I’ll behave. Go, go!” 

Jane had to admit, her vantage point wasn’t all that bad. Barry and Maura walked up to a dumpster where the body lay. She could see the face a little. Something about her was so familiar but she couldn’t place what it was. Jane shoved her fists into the pockets of her jacket while she watched Maura catalog everything about the poor woman she was examining. 

“There’s a glucose pump here,” Maura said aloud. Barry had walked away so she was speaking more loudly. Loud enough for Jane to hear. 

“Glucose pump…,” Jane repeated. She walked along the tape in an attempt to get a better look at the face. Maura had turned the head of the dead woman just so giving Jane a clear shot. She gasped, “Oh God….” She immediately went under the tape, “Oh _no_ , no, no.” 

The glucose pump. As soon as Maura said it, she just knew….

Barry seemingly came out of nowhere, grabbing her and holding her back. “Jane, I thought I told you…” 

“It’s Katie,” Jane said abruptly. She managed to stop struggling against him even though all she wanted to do was get closer. She repeated, “It’s Katie Randle.” 

“She’s right,” Maura said, standing up. She was holding the victim’s ID. Katie’s ID. 

Barry lowered his hands, letting Jane go. “You know her?” 

Did she know Katie? Jane nodded slightly and said, “Well, I guess you could say that, I uh, _know_ her know her.” 

Maura had walked up to them. “What does that mean?” 

Jane felt her ears growing a little hot. Revealing that she knew Katie suddenly felt like such a bad idea. And while she didn’t necessarily need to reveal the type of relationship it was, she mostly didn’t want to lie to Maura. Which was dumb because Maura wasn’t her girlfriend. 

She folded her arms across her chest and puffed out her cheeks while trying to figure out how to word her next answer. 

“Well, you asked me if I knew about Merch. And I said ‘yes’ because what gay woman in Boston doesn’t know about Merch? And let’s just say I met Katie here. Once. Or twice. Maybe the third time I accidently ripped a faucet out of a sink in the bathroom. Maybe I got banned for a month.”

“You said ‘maybe’ twice,” Maura remarked in confusion. 

“You ripped the faucet…?” Barry started, then widened his eyes. “Oh, you _ripped_ the faucet _out_ of the sink because…?” 

“Yep.” 

“Oh. I’m impressed.”

“Shut up, Frost.”

“I’m not following,” Maura cut in. 

Jane coughed uncomfortably. “I was pretty fresh out of high school? Still thinking about the academy. Just broke up with my girlfriend. Merch was turning a blind eye to IDs at the time….and I met Katie. Here. A few times.”

Barry repeated, “A few?”

Jane swallowed. “Several.” 

Maura’s expression was still a blank slate. Barry held up a finger to Jane signaling, _give me a moment._ He turned Maura and himself around so that their backs were now to Jane. He spoke in a hushed whisper for longer than Jane thought necessary. Eventually, Jane heard Maura’s ‘oh!’ and then they both turned back to face her. 

Barry was grinning. Maura looked bashful. 

Maura cleared her throat. “You dated?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” Jane said, blushing. “I was young, heartbroken. Katie was older than me. I didn’t know she was having a spat with her girlfriend. Once I figured that out, I cut her off.” Jane tilted her head enough to see past Maura’s shoulder. To see Katie’s face. She spied the wedding band on her hand. _That’s new._ “She was married.”

“Her ID says her full name is Katie Gaynor-Randle,” Maura added. 

Jane sniffed, shook her head. “Of course, it’s Mel. I never liked her.” 

Knowingly, Barry commented. “So, did Mel come after you with a baseball bat or a frying pan for sleeping with her woman?” 

“Frying pan from the kitchen behind the bar,” Jane confirmed reluctantly. “I was immature and stupid. I didn’t know.” 

“Huh.” Barry gave the body another glance before saying, “At first I thought I was looking for an angry husband. Guess what I’m really looking for is an angry wife.” 

***

As far as Friday’s went, this wasn’t horrible. Just, instead of groaning over achy muscles and Jorge’s inability to get a clue, she was going to have to contend with memories of Katie as well. Before Jane figured out Katie was basically using her, the two of them did manage to share more than just carnal desire. 

Occasionally one of them would get brave. They would talk about minor details of their lives. Favorite sports team. Where they grew up, what school they went to. Katie wasn’t a Boston native. She had moved from Connecticut a few years prior. Only later did Jane learn she moved to Boston to be with Mel. 

It was habit to walk Maura to her door. When they got there, Maura said, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Do you want to talk about something else?” 

So that’s how Jane found herself having a conversation about gender identity and sexuality with the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Since becoming a doorman for the Condominiums at Cambridge she was finding herself in many scenarios she wouldn’t have ever found herself in otherwise. 

Like lying next to Maura in her bed. Again. 

Talking about sexuality. 

Because Katie had been seeing multiple women behind Mel’s back if the secret dating profile Barry had uncovered was anything to go by. Which, if she really thought on it, wasn’t exactly a huge departure from the Katie that Jane knew. 

“I wonder what type of woman I would like if I liked women,” Maura mused, adjusting the pillow behind her head to get more comfortable. She then turned her head to look at Jane. “Do you have a type?” 

Jane chuckled uncomfortably. “There’s no subtlety with you.” 

“I find direct questions are a more efficient way of getting answers.” 

“So, do I have a type? Uh, I don’t think I do?”

“Are you asking?”

Jane laughed. “Maybe. I dunno. I’m usually the guy, if that makes sense.”

“That’s such a cliché,” Maura said, grinning. “Why do you say that?” 

“Because,” Jane said back as if it were obvious. “I just am. I dunno. I suppose my type is on the more feminine side of things.” 

Maura appeared contemplative. “Would I fall under that category?”

“Well, I guess. I mean, yeah. You definitely have…,” Jane said. She was stammering. _Get it together, Rizzoli._ “Yes, you would be my type.” 

She waited a beat. 

“Hm.” 

Jane looked at her in disbelief. “’Hm’? That’s it? All I get is a ‘hm’? What about you? What usually catches Dr. Maura Isles’ eyes?”

Maura’s laugh was amused. “Well, I don’t do well with bossy. And you, Jane, are very bossy.” 

“Me? You’re saying I’m not your type?” 

“I’m saying you’re not my type.” 

“Wha--? What do you mean I’m not your type? That is so rude!” Jane shot back playfully. “And don’t think you’re not bossy. You’re just nice and polite when you do it. I have seen Susie speed walk out of your office on multiple occasions.” 

Jane watched as Maura shut her eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Meditating.” 

“In the middle of a conversation?” 

“Shh.” 

“Did you just _shush_ me?” 

Maura’s eyes remained closed but her smiled broadened. Jane flopped onto her back in a somewhat petulant fashion, hitting the pillow for good measure. But she allowed herself to still if only to give Maura the chance to begin her session. 

Jane let the silence settle around them, listened to Maura’s controlled breaths. 

She tried not to dwell on the fact that Maura had just reasserted her straightness. She tried to find solace in having become such great friends in such a short amount of time. That even if Maura couldn’t return her feelings romantically, that she had been blessed with a truly amazing friendship during a time she thought loneliness would be her foreseeable future. 

“Jane?” 

“Yeah, Maur?” 

“You actually do fit some of the criteria…. physically.” 

“I, uh…what?” Jane turned her head to find Maura was already looking at her. 

“I just mean tall, dark hair, refined musculature. That’s usually my type.” Her friend was speaking in that matter-of-fact way that she always did. Her smile was soft, earnest. Always honest to a fault. “Having had this conversation with you, I suppose those are qualities that I find attractive in both sexes.” 

“Oh, okay,” Jane replied softly. She asked her next question before she could stop herself, “So, if I were to work on being less bossy…?” 

Maura smirked. “Then I might consider it.” 

“Seriously?” Jane said back. “That’s it?” 

“We could work on your grammar. Maybe update your wardrobe too.” 

Jane rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back again. “Okay, that’s enough, J Lo.” 

“I might also consider expanding your range of footwear. Open your eyes to healthier food options.” 

“Maura!” 

Her friend finally succumbed to a fit of giggles and Jane couldn’t help but join her. 

“You, Maura Isles, are a tease. But I still love you.”

Without hesitation, Maura replied, “I love you too, Jane.”

This was it. This was the moment she concluded that Maura Isles was going to be the death of her. 

This was also the moment that Jane knew she was utterly, helplessly, hopelessly in love.

***

So, this was definitely not what Jane envisioned returning to Merch as a paying customer for the first time in many years. First up was Mel Gaynor. 

Maura invited Jane to another ride along. Sort of. Barry and Gabriel wanted to talk to the owner of Merch again. Maura saw it as an opportunity to not only survey the interview, but also to partake in the food and drink. “We can stay for a few drinks. It will be fun!” 

Jane figured why not. Sit at the bar until Maura was done. Order some finger foods and drink. Relax. 

Jane kept her eyes closed for a moment as the champagne that had just been tossed in her face stung her eyes a little, dripped off her chin and onto her shirt. When she opened them again, she saw the depths of rage that Mel Gaynor-Randle apparently still held for her, her hands tightly gripping the stem of her now empty glass. 

Jane used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe at the beverage on her cheeks. “You’ve got a long memory, Mel.” 

“You tend not to forget the girl that your wayward fiancée had an affair with.” 

“Oh c’mon, you weren’t getting hitched at the time!” 

So _that_ was the wrong answer. 

The slap she should’ve seen coming. She didn’t. 

It was at that moment; Maura was returning from the kitchen with Barry. Maura’s eyes widened in shock when she saw Mel deliver her riotous smack. When Mel wound up for another blow and Jane prepared to defend, Barry shouted out ‘Hey, hey, hey!” pushing his way between Jane’s rising temper and Mel’s fury. 

“Take a breath!” Barry ordered. 

It was enough to get Mel to back away. Jane stood up from her bar stool, ready to follow, but bumping into Barry made that impossible. 

The owner of Merch (a former bartender and for the love of Christ, Jane couldn’t remember her name) along with Detective Dean exited the kitchen next. 

Jane loathed Gabriel. He was a stickler for rules. And awfully dull. And an asshole. 

Gabriel sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What happened?”

“Well, if it isn’t Jane Rizzoli,” the owner said, in almost a loving tone. “You’ve been in my bar ten seconds and I already have to kick you out.” 

“Funny, I kinda thought you were going to kick Mel out for assaulting me!” Jane shouted. “Maybe I should call the police. Oh, wait. They’re already here!” 

“Ladies!” Gabriel yelled over them. “Let’s separate. C’mon. Rizzoli to the booth. Mrs. Gaynor-Randle? I needed one more word with you. Just a moment.” 

Jane felt someone tugging on her hand. The soft, gentle pull she knew belonged to Maura and it instantly made her feel more at ease and she was effortlessly taken away from the others. 

So. That was the first thing. 

The second? 

After both detectives and Mel finally left, Maura suggested that they still stay. Just for a drink. To cool down. To process. 

A drink turned into a few plus two to three hours of conversation. Maura had never been to a gay bar and with the usual patrons now filtering in, she wanted to bask in this new environment. Jane insisted it was pretty much like any other hole-in-the-wall bar. Just gayer. 

When Maura said she had to use the ladies’ room, Jane told her she needed some air. She didn’t smoke anymore, but a few minutes to think out back like she used to do would do her some good. 

It was added to a long list of mistakes she had made so far that night. 

Jane hit the brick wall with a thud. Her fingernails dug into the red crumbles as she steadied herself, leaning against it. _Oh, what the fu---_

“I am _really_ getting tired of people hitting me tonight!”

Another fist came her way, but she easily dodged this one. It was easier to defend now that she wasn’t being sucker punched. 

They danced around each other, Jane dodging mostly, her attacker chasing after her.

“Okay. Hold on. What’s your name?” Jane said, hands on her knees. The other woman (who was stupid tall and stupid strong) was winding up and Jane made a motion with her hands that signaled time-out. “C’mon. Just…I need a minute. You chased me down and then hit me. I’m a little drunk. I need a minute.” 

Thankfully, the younger woman paused. “It’s Claire.” 

“Great. I’m Jane. Care to tell me why you’re hitting me?”

“Katie didn’t tell me she was married. Her wife tracked me down tonight, threatened me and then told me to give you a message. If I did that, she would leave me alone.”

“ _Really?_ Champagne in the face wasn’t enough?” 

“She wants you to walk away. And if I were you Jane, I would run,” Claire said, a little bit of a tremble in her voice. 

Jane watched Claire briskly walk away. She shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs and muttered, “That wasn’t ominous or anything.” 

“Jane?” It was Maura, obviously looking for her when she took too long coming back. When she turned to face her, Maura’s eyes widened again for the second time that night. “Oh my God, what happened!?” 

Jane reached up under her eye. It was tender. “That bad?” 

“Who did it?” Maura said, batting away Jane’s hand and lightly testing the sensitivity of the cut. 

“Ouch! and it doesn’t matter,” Jane said, now batting Maura’s hand away. “I won’t press charges. And she’ll deny it anyway. She was scared.” 

“Why was she scared?” Maura asked. 

“Mel is a scary woman.” 


	9. Hangover Monday

Maura had made Jane stop by her condo before standing at her station. 

“Ow, Maura! C’mon!” Jane griped. “I’m fine.” 

“This cut will get infected if you don’t treat it,” Maura said sternly, not once pausing in her work.

Jane tried to sit still. She wasn’t necessarily putting up a fuss because it hurt. She could handle a little cut. What she couldn’t handle was Maura in her space. Like, leaning in with a deep look of concentration. Close enough that Jane could feel Maura breathing, soft puffs of air hitting her cheek. Close enough to map the contours of her face, to spy little freckles that wouldn’t otherwise be visible far away. 

And just in case Jane didn’t think her Monday could get any more awkward, Maura’s door opened and in walked Constance. 

_Jesus flipping Christ._

“Good morning, dear. Good morning, Jane.” 

Surprised by the casual greeting, Jane replied guardedly, “Uh, good morning, Mrs. Isles.” 

Constance sighed heavily. She went to the kitchen rummaging around for a mug. “You might as well call me, Constance. Maura seems to have adopted you.” 

“ _Mother_ ,” Maura said in a warning tone. This actually made her stop what she was doing to send a pointed look toward Constance. 

“What? I don’t even know why I’ve given her a room. She’s in here all the time.” 

Jane felt her cheeks flush. Was she really in here that much? 

She knew the answer was a big ol’ gay yes. 

“Almost done?” Jane asked anxiously. 

Maura gave her a sympathetic look. “Yes, sorry. Let me apply a little bandage and you’ll be good to go.”

Constance had dumped a tea bag into her mug. “So, what happened? A bar fight?” 

They both turned to look at her. Their expressions must have said it all because she merely rolled her eyes and went to the fridge. “I would hope my doorman could take better care of themselves in a fight.” 

“I was sucker punched. And a little drunk.”

“Naturally.”

Constance said that last word with such disdainful judgement, Jane could feel the reverberations pounding in her skull. 

“ _Okay_.” Jane stood up abruptly. “Have a good day, Maura. You too, Mrs. Isles.” 

Jane was _not_ about to test out saying her first name.

***

Having been on the job for over a month, Jane was seeing parts of humanity she was hoping to never see. 

For example, Nicolai (aka Mr. Handlebar Mustache) was constantly on his phone tossing out nearly every slur in the book. It was unpleasant and Jane had to fight to hold her tongue. One of the number one rules of her job was to not engage or comment on any bad behavior. 

One night, Barry had stopped by to wait for her shift to end. He had invited her to The Dirty Robber and was there to pick her up. Nicolai just happened to exit the elevator about the time Barry arrived and under his breath muttered words that the young detective was willingly going to commit murder over. She was quick enough to grab his arm and convince him that he needed his job. 

Jane could also count on three hands the number of affairs going on in the building. She and Darren would take bets on who would find out and when. The fights were pretty nasty and very public. It was a shame she couldn’t eat popcorn on the clock. 

There were some brighter spots. 

‘Kitty’ had been gracious enough to take ‘no’ for an answer and there were no more calls to fix her pipes. She was polite when they crossed paths. Her steady stream of suitors was still endless. And now that Jane was more aware, a lot of different women too. She, in turn, would have some mildly fascinating conversations on the latest celebrity gossip whenever showing Kate to her car. For example, Lindsay Lohan. Like, _holy crap_. 

Mrs. Yates was almost always asking her to play a song, but Jane would shyly decline. She wasn’t really brave enough to sit at a piano just yet. Mrs. Yates’ understanding expression always made her feel better about it though. Occasionally, they would go to the rooftop and water the flowers (Jane would also check on Bass). 

Today, however, was a boring day. 

Like, so bored she could literally die. 

Sunday’s horror show had melted into Monday’s rainy forecast. Traffic was light in the lobby. She was only tending to the tenants that had to go to work. Most everyone else, it seemed, was staying in because of the weather. 

Her phone buzzed a message. _Finally_ , something to occupy her. 

Maura: Mel’s alibi is airtight. 

Jane: Really? 

Maura: Also Katie’s last glucose reading was over 400

Jane: Is that good or bad?

Maura: It’s extremely high. 

Jane: Is that good or bad?

Maura: Bad.

Jane put her phone back under the podium. She remembered how strict Katie was about her medications. Something wasn’t right. She picked it back up again and typed quickly. 

Jane: Can you tell if the pump was tampered with

Maura: We already checked. No fingerprints.

Jane: But was it tampered with

Maura: It doesn’t appear so. However, the pump could have been switched. 

Maura: We did find out that Katie inherited $500,000 dollars. Upon her death, her spouse would receive that money. 

Jane: Motive no proof

Maura: Unfortunately.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes.” 

Jane looked up and saw Charles walking toward her. Their relationship so far had actually been a little weird. He swayed between the caring old man that worked the front desk to the childish prankster that had nothing better to do than tease Jane about her love life. Right now, all she saw was concern. 

“I’m going to take my lunch,” Jane said evenly. “Can you cover?” 

Charles’ expression softened into worry as she began to walk toward the door. “Please tell me you’re going to pick up a pizza.”

“I’m actually in the mood for some greasy bar food,” Jane said, without looking back. She pushed through the heavy glass doors and hailed a taxi. 

***

Crooks were stupid. 

Jane could almost always rely on that fact. The rain had changed to a light mist as she approached the back gate to Merch. She noticed the police tape was still in place which meant the dumpster had never been emptied. No access for the truck? The trash was still there. The crime scene unit did a sweep, but at the time they weren’t suspicious of the glucose pump. 

But now Jane was. 

Jane tested the gate, but she knew it would be locked up and chained. She gripped onto the chain-link and hauled herself up and over, boots splashing as they hit the concrete. She casually walked over to the dumpster and lifted the lid. It reeked, but she held her nose and began to sift through the muck. Glass bottles clinked and her hands occasionally rubbed something wet, slimy. Why didn’t she bring gloves? Oh, that’s right. She stormed over here half-cocked and unthinkingly. She leaned further in and with another push saw something peculiar. 

She pulled out a little clear container, half the size of a prescription bottle. It read fentanyl citrate on the side. She smiled. Crooks were stupid. 

She quickly grabbed her phone and took a picture. She sent it to Maura, dialed her straightaway. 

It went to voicemail. Shit. 

“Maura, it’s me. I just sent you a photo. I need you to see if ….” 

“Jane.” 

“Crap,” Jane said, lowering the phone. 

She knew who it was. The owner of Merch. God, what _was_ her name? So yeah, crooks were stupid. But Jane was definitely working on taking the award for most reckless.

Jane’s hands were still hovering over the open dumpster. She had a plan, kind of. Though she was certain she wasn’t going to get through this without getting hit. 

She dropped her phone into the dumpster, reached for her gun and as she turned around was met with a 2x4 to the face. 

Nope. Definitely didn’t avoid getting hit. 

***

For the second time that day, Jane felt the pressure of someone applying ointment to her face. She opened her eyes and as the world came into focus, she realized it was the owner dabbing the wound. 

“You’re awake.” 

Jane groaned. “Yeah, kinda wishing I wasn’t.” 

“You shouldn’t have come back.” 

“Yeah. Probably right. I could have avoided, you know, _this._ ” 

Jane went to move, but ended up tugging on her restrained wrists. She was tied to a metal chair in the kitchen. Jane had no choice but to allow the medical treatment and remarked, “I’m guessing you upgraded the security system.” 

“If you mean I actually added a camera facing the back door, then yes.” 

“Oh, so we’re joking now? Kind of a weird take for a murderer.” 

“I didn’t….”

“You switched out her pump and she died. That’s murder.” 

The owner sounded a little panicked now. “Jane, you don’t understand.” 

“Shut up, sweetie.” Jane felt her hairs stand on end at the voice. It was Mel Gaynor appearing from somewhere near the back of the kitchen. She was dressed in some ridiculous white suit, looking out of place as usual. She always treated everyone as if they were beneath her yet insisted on slumming it at Merch. Now Jane knew why. 

“Sweetie?” Jane parroted. “Really? You loathed me for years because Katie used me to cheat on you.”

“Turnabout is fair play,” Mel replied venomously. “I should’ve known you would be too stupid to walk away.” 

“Yeah, I’m hardheaded that way,” Jane shot back. “So, you poisoned her.” 

Mel’s eyes darkened. “She deserved it. And quite frankly, so do you.” Jane saw Mel pick up her firearm off the counter. She noticed for the first time that Mel was wearing a pair of ridiculous designer gloves to match her stupid outfit. She clearly didn’t want to leave any prints behind. “Seeing how you own this gun you’ve already done the work of leaving your fingerprints on it for me.”

Sweetie (that was going to be her name now), quickly went over and placed a hand on Mel’s forearm. “Mel, we don’t have to do this.”

“She obviously knows. If she gets away, we miss out on that $500,000. I’m not going to let Jane Rizzoli, of all people, ruin that.” 

In the next moment, Jane was looking down the barrel of her own gun. A few hours ago, it seemed like her worst problem was Constance’s judgement. Well…that actually was still pretty high up on the ‘worst problems’ list. Eating her own gun was slightly edging that out. 

As she shut her eyes, she mumbled to herself, “God, damn it.” 

She expected to hear a gunshot. 

But she heard something else.

“Hello?” 

They all perked up at the voice. Jane recognized it immediately. It was Maura. 

“Take care of it,” Mel ordered, still holding the gun. 

Jane heard Sweetie rush out the kitchen doors to the bar. She twisted her wrists again willing the ropes to loosen, but they wouldn’t. If Maura was here, she did what Jane hoped she would do. When Jane dropped the phone in the dumpster, she left the call open to hopefully pick up sounds of her struggle. Her GPS was always on, so Barry using his wizardry had hopefully used it to trace it to her location. 

But she was beginning to fear that Maura had shown up alone. 

“She knows what you did, you know,” Jane said, looking at Mel. “I sent her the picture of the fentanyl. She will trace it back to this bar. Back to you.” Mel made eye contact with her again, a marked fear resting in her eyes. Jane smiled, “She’s a very smart woman with a very smart crime lab unit. They _all_ know. So, don’t think you can get out of this by killing everyone. You still have a chance to run.” 

Mel raised the gun again, resting the barrel right on Jane’s forehead. Which was definitely the opposite of what Jane was hoping she would do. She wanted to play on Mel’s cowardice; that she could convince her to run, but it seemed the old bitty had grown a set in the last few years. 

“Well, at least I can finally get rid of you.” 

The kitchen door was kicked open and Barry yelled, “Drop it! Drop the weapon now!” 

He wasn’t alone as a few more uniforms rushed in with him. Mel Gaynor, for all her bluster, immediately withdrew and placed the gun back on the counter. Barry turned her around and in a satisfying shove, slammed Mel against the counter to slap cuffs on her wrist. 

Sweet merciful Jesus! She had waited her whole life to see that! 

“Jane!” 

Maura rounded her chair to look at her, the worry etched in her expression so intrinsic, Jane felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. When her friend proceeded to hold her face with care between her two hands, Jane was certain she going to cry with relief. 

She tried to laugh it off, but her voice was strangled with emotion. “Maura, hey…” 

“Oh my God, your face… Let me untie you.”

Maura went to the back of the chair and quickly undid the ropes at her hands. Jane shook out her hands for approximately two seconds before Maura nearly tackled her in a hug, the momentum very close to tipping the chair back and sending them both to the floor. Jane immediately gripped her tightly. 

Maura sounded out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

“I might have pissed myself,” Jane kidded. “But I’m fine.” 

Maura pulled back enough to really look at her. “Don’t joke.” 

Jane made the move to stand up and Maura allowed her too. “I promise, I’m fine.” 

“Jane.” Barry was walking up to them now, his worry also evident. “You look like shit.” 

“I got hit with a 2x4 and thought I was gonna die.” 

“Fair enough,” Barry said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

Maura had not stopped studying the injuries on her face. “Did you call a bus, Barry?” 

He confirmed, “One is on the way.” 

“Oh, guys, really. I don’t need a doctor.” 

Maura gripped her hands firmly in response. Jane curiously looked down at their joined hands (had they been holding hands this whole time?) then back into Maura’s eyes. The mixture of abject fear, concern, affection she could see swirling in them nearly took her breath away. Barely above a whisper, Maura pleaded, “Let them look, Jane. You could have a concussion.” 

Jane found herself nodding before the answer even left her lips. “Okay.” 

Maura pulled her into another hug. She held Jane for another few moments, before she said, “Barry’s right. You do look like shit.” 

Jane laughed into her friend’s hair. “Language, Maura.” 

Maura managed to hold on tighter. “You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I had to, Maura. For Katie.” 

“I know.” 

“Thanks for the rescue,” Jane said as they pulled apart again.

“Thank, Charles. Barry tried to ping your phone. He couldn’t. Charles walked into the precinct concerned about you. Said you went to lunch hours ago to get ‘greasy bar food’. You hadn’t come back. Barry concluded you had to be here.”

“I guess I owe Charles Hoyt my life,” Jane said, before adding quickly. “Let’s not tell him I said that. He will literally call on a favor every day until one of is dead.”

Maura finally smiled at her. “I won’t tell him, but he has my thanks as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fun fact: the owner of Merch was never given a name in the show.


	10. Sunday Dinner

The sunlight was streaming in through the partially open blinds, urging Jane to get up and start her day. This was the first Sunday since beginning her job here that she just wanted to sleep in. She wanted to forget about the world, to forget about crazy Mel and to forget that her face still hurt a little whenever she spoke. Even a whole week later, her decision to rush back into that bar was lingering, poking at her brain as if to say ‘you should have been more careful. You could’ve died.’ 

It wasn’t like this was the first crazy thing she had ever done. She chased a druggie down an alleyway for touching her girlfriend (Not recommended). She started an affair with an older woman only to find out later they were already in a relationship (Also, not recommended). She swung a baseball bat against the back of an old detective for holding her friend hostage. Reacquainted herself with the owner of a bar she had been kicked out of twice. 

Risked her life for a dead woman she hadn’t seen in years because she didn’t deserve to die in the manner in which she did. 

In the moment, Jane really is fine. She stands by her decisions. She accepts the outcomes.

But she was experiencing a weariness that she had not undergone before, not just from being smacked with a 2x4 but also from all the thinking! 

And it was Sunday. And her mother and Frankie had been texting all week. 

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

She grunted, then reluctantly reached over to see who it was. 

Frankie: You coming to dinner tonight? 

Jane sighed deeply. Her mother had been texting nonstop since last weekend about Sunday dinner. _You can’t miss Sunday dinner, Jane. Not again. Why do you do this to your mother, Jane? I’m asking you for one thing! Your father will be disappointed!_ The Rizzoli guilt was weighing on her. 

Jane: Will you be my buffer? I don’t think I can handle Ma’s questions

Frankie: Actually, I was gonna suggest something.

Jane waited a few moments. Frankie didn’t elaborate. 

Jane: Well, you expect me to read your mind?

Frankie: Why don’t you invite Maura

Jane immediately sat up and dialed Frankie’s number. As soon as he answered, she said, “Absolutely not.” 

Frankie laughed. “Oh c’mon, Jane. She will be the perfect buffer! Ma can talk to her. You won’t even have to deal with the other shit.” 

“No, if Ma talks to Maura, she’ll get every gruesome detail about what happened,” Jane said. “Maura can’t lie.” 

There was a momentary silence on the other end. 

“What does that mean?” 

Jane rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “It means what I said, doofus. She can’t lie. Ma will press her on everything that happened and Maura will answer. The whole point of the buffer is so I don’t have to deal with it. If Maura is there, I will have to deal with it.” 

“If Maura isn’t there, you’ll still have to deal with it. Me and Pop? We’ll have to deal with it.”

It was Jane’s turn to say, “What does that mean?” 

“It means, we have to sit uncomfortably at the dinner table while you and Ma argue over everything.” 

“Excuse me. I’m sorry my recent trauma has been so inconvenient for you, asshole.” 

“ _And_ the difference between this trauma and others is Maura.” 

Jane sat up straighter. “I have no clue why that’s important.” 

Frankie’s voice was soft as he spoke. “Maura comes up every day when we talk, Janie.”

It was probably the combination of Frankie’s calm declaration and the truth ingrained in his statement that quieted her. 

He continued, “Maura has cooked for you, treated your scrapes and bruises, invited you to her job in a freakin’ morgue, taken you to literal mansions, convinced you to do yoga and has bought you clothes. Have I missed anything?” 

“It was only one dress….” 

“My point is, you _need_ her more than you let on and I think she needs you. You had a messed-up weekend. You both did. You should bring her to dinner. Give you both something wholesome. And I’ll help you handle Ma.” 

Jane lowered her head, her cell phone pressed firmly against her ear. “Frankie, I dunno….” 

“Better yet, I’ll tell Ma right now that we will have another guest. She’ll be in such a frenzy cleaning the house, she won’t have time to worry about what happened at Merch.” 

This was a bad idea. 

“Okay, I’ll get up and showered. I’ll go ask her.” 

“Great! See ya later!” 

Jane dropped her phone and then rubbed her eyes. 

This was a bad idea. Bringing Maura to her childhood home to eat dinner with her family was a bad idea. 

***

“So, it’s Sunday,” Jane began, nervously playing with her napkin.

Maura looked up from the magazine she had been reading. She had made them both coffees. There was also an assortment of pastries on the island. Jane would normally dig in, but her stomach was churning.

“Yes, it is Sunday.”

“Well, I’ll be going home for dinner.”

“As you usually do,” Maura said.

“Would you like to join me, err, us?” Jane forged ahead fretfully. “Ya know, for dinner? Meet my family?”

Why the hell did this feel like she was inviting her girlfriend to meet her parents for the first time? Maura was not her girlfriend. Would likely never be and God, what was she even _thinking_? Why did she let Frankie talk her into this? Maura would have a completely different view of her once walking into their cramped little home. With its old brass fixtures and the faded crucifix over the kitchen entryway. The extremely worn-down rug in the family room that hadn’t looked vacuumed in 20 years. 

Jane hastily backtracked. “I mean, you probably already have plans, so never ---…”

“I’d love to,” Maura said, cutting her off. 

Jane finally made eye contact with her friend. “Really?”

Maura’s smile grew wider. “Yes.”

Jane felt a joy she only ever seemed to feel in Maura’s presence. 

Frankie was right. Maura filled all the empty spaces within her heart and made it whole.

***

The Rizzoli’s greeted them both at the door in their classic boisterous fashion. Jane had secretly hoped that they wouldn’t all yell ‘Hey!” or even all say ‘Janie!’ in unison. 

She didn’t get her wish. 

And since she had a guest, the kisses and hugs were extra kissy and awkwardly long. She chanced a glance at Maura to be sure she was okay. Maura appeared to be stunned by the attention, but her body language disclosed she was unperturbed. She genuinely smiled at the loving, heartfelt welcome; as if she wasn’t visiting Jane’s home for the first time. 

“Oh, honey, you are so pretty! Janie, why didn’t you tell me she was so pretty?” Angela gushed, lightly hitting Jane on the arm in admonishment. 

Jane groaned, thoroughly embarrassed. “Ma…” 

Maura was undoubtedly amused, but Jane took another look to find her friend’s cheeks glowing with a light shade of pink at the praise. Jane had to agree. Maura was definitely pretty even when bashful. 

“Ang, let the girls breathe!” Frank Rizzoli chimed in. He motioned for them both to enter the family room where the TV had baseball flooding the air. “Sit, sit! Make yourself at home!” 

Frankie had already plopped down in his usual armchair, the squeaks seeming louder than usual and it made Jane cringe. She led Maura to the wear worn couch while Angela rushed back into the kitchen presumably to finish prepping dinner. She yelled from the back, “Don’t be rude to our guest, Frankie! See if she needs anything!” 

Her brother sat up again in a hurry, “Oh, right. I’m sorry, Maura. Do you need anything? We got beer.” 

“Oh, no thank you,” Maura politely declined. “I don’t drink beer.” 

“You don’t drink...,” Frank started to say with an uncharacteristic gasp. “Oh. Well, we will fix that, don’t you worry. We only serve the best in the Rizzoli house.”

“Pop, if she doesn’t want beer, she doesn’t want beer,” Jane said rather firmly. 

Maura rested her hand on Jane’s thigh. “No, it’s okay. If it’s the best, how can I say no?” 

Jane was a little astonished, first at the hand on her thigh, then at the earnest expression on Maura’s face. Jane rose an eyebrow in question. “Are you sure?” 

“Why not? Seems like a good time to try new things.” 

“Ok then! Coming right up!” Frankie announced happily, jumping up and heading into the kitchen to join his mother. 

“So, Maura. Do you have a favorite team?” Frank asked, picking up his remote. He had a habit of switching between games whenever the Sox went to commercial. He was very intent on knowing everything about each player, each team. 

“Admittedly, I don’t know a lot about baseball,” Maura replied. “What little I know I learned from Jane.” 

Jane felt the blush. She couldn’t stop it. Her little ‘hands on’ demonstration was never far from memory and it never failed to embarrass her again. Or get her all worked up. Or both. 

Frankie came back in with two fresh bottles, opened. He handed one to each of them. He probably noticed Jane’s discomfort in her expression but didn’t address it. He smiled at Maura, “The only correct answer to that question, Maura, is The Sox. And before you leave here tonight, you will know everything you need to know about America’s favorite pastime. Janie is not the best teacher.”

Jane glared at her brother. “Shut up! I’m the best teacher!”

Maura frowned a little. “I wouldn’t say that, Frankie. What she showed me was extremely educational.” 

Jane did everything in her power to sit still. Frankie could tell something was up now. She smiled tightly. “You see? She said educational.” 

Frankie narrowed his eyes a little in suspicion. 

“Well, Jane knows mechanics. I know stats,” Frank said proudly before taking a long pull from his drink. 

“Well, I am always eager to learn,” Maura said brightly. She took a moment to study her drink before cautiously taking a sip from her bottle. 

Her father and brother waited to see her reaction. Even Jane was waiting with bated breath.

Her face lit up as she exclaimed, “This is really good!” 

Jane grinned widely as her brother ‘whooped’ and her father stated, ‘I told you it was the best!’ Frankie took control of the remote again, back to the Sox game. He started chatting quickly about the players and the positions. Maura was listening intently, not that Jane expected her to do any differently. 

Jane took a pull from her bottle and felt her chest loosen a little bit more. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the disaster she thought it was going to be. 

Frankie leaned forward then; his expression curious. “So, Maura. Jane says you can’t lie.” 

Jane froze, the bottle in her hand a few scant millimeters from her lips. She eyed her brother warily as the anxiety roared back. 

Maura nodded. “This is true.” 

“Ok. What exactly did Jane teach you about baseball?”

“The proper stance when standing at the plate.” 

“Really? Because you said she ‘showed you’ and now I’m wondering how did she show…” 

“Hey, you know what?” Jane said, standing. She tugged Maura up with her. “Let me show you the house, Maura. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

Frankie objected a little too forcefully. “Hey! I asked her a question!” 

Jane was gently pushing a slightly puzzled Maura toward the kitchen. She shot her brother the fiercest glare she could muster and mouthed at him ‘shut up _asshole_!’ 

They were in the kitchen and hit with the smells of dinner. The gravy was simmering and the spices sent a pleasant heat throughout the room. Jane spied the cookie tin and knew for a fact that Angela had made a fresh batch of sugar cookies. There was a big pot boiling. She suspected it was some kind of pasta. 

For the moment, Jane could keep Maura away from the men. Unfortunately, this thrust them into her mother’s clutches. 

“Girls! Wonderful! Jane, could you get the cheese from the fridge?” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Jane said, leading Maura to the small table near the back of the kitchen. Angela, however, had other plans tugging Maura toward her instead. 

“Maura! Please, I’m running a little behind. Roll this dough, please, love.” 

“Oh, of course, Mrs. Rizzoli,” Maura said, inexplicably drawn into Angela’s frenetic pace. Her mother’s frenzy had always had a way of sucking in all the people, things, just pure energy around her. And it was channeled into her love for cooking and baking. 

“Call me Angela, please. And flour! Here’s some flour!” Her mother whipped back around to look in her direction. “Jane! The cheese!” 

“Okay, Ma!” Jane said, quickly getting the requested food. “Really, Maura. You don’t have to…” 

“No, it’s okay, Jane,” Maura said, smiling at her. “This is …. fun.” 

“It is?” Jane said disbelievingly. Cooking in the kitchen with her mother was _never_ fun. 

Maura was practically elbow deep in dough. Her eyes had a shine in them that Jane wasn’t sure she had seen before. Her mother had somehow unlocked another side to Maura that Jane instantly decided was her favorite. Maura was more casual, had become more adapting to the sudden change in her environment. The clinical doctor had softened into a forgiving woman temporarily free of burdens. It was just another wonderful thing that Jane felt privileged to witness. 

Angela snatched the bag of cheese from Jane since she had suddenly become paralyzed watching Maura. “If you’re just going to gawk, go back out to the family room!” 

She heard Maura snicker. 

“Okay, fine!” Jane griped, but in a playful manner. She went by Maura, a gentle hand on her shoulder. She said quietly, “Ma is tricky. If you’re not careful, she’ll have your whole life story in minutes.” 

Maura paused a moment to look at Jane. “If I need a rescue, I’ll yell.” 

Jane smiled as her friend started to roll the dough. She retrieved her beer bottle and went back out to the family room to rejoin her father and brother. 

When she sat down, she knew her smile had not faded as she caught Frankie’s eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it this time. 

She was happy. 

***

“Got it!” Frankie said proudly. 

The little firepit had finally come to life. He observed the flames for a moment and once satisfied began rummaging through the grocery bag he brought with him. Jane had finished unfolding the lawn chairs, helped Maura to take her seat and then fell into the chair next to her. The cooler was next to her and she eagerly fetched another beer. She held up the bottle to Maura in question. 

Maura’s eyes were playful, the flames danced in them. She shrugged as if to say, why not? She took the offered beverage. Jane smiled and retrieved another for herself. 

“Frankie, what are you doing?” Maura said. 

He smiled widely. “This, my new beautiful friend, would be the ingredients for smores.” He held up a pack of chocolate and a pack of graham crackers. 

“Oh! I’ve never had those before,” Maura said, sitting up straighter. 

“You what?” “Really?” Frankie and Jane said at the same time. 

“Wow, let me get these going. Hold on.” Her brother found some sturdy twigs and began to stick marshmallows on them. “Okay, this one is yours, Maura. Just hold that a second.” 

Maura viewed it carefully. “What is this white stuff?” 

Jane shook her head. “Uh, it’s a marshmallow.” Maura showed no signs of recognition. “Let me guess. Boarding school didn’t introduce any of you to sugar of any kind.” 

“Our meals were very nutritious,” Maura said defensively. 

“Ok, well, we are going to introduce you to one of the best snacks known to mankind,” Frankie said, eagerly. “Okay, we each got a marshmallow. Hold it over the flame like so. Not too close. It will catch on fire. Once it’s hot, we’ll sandwich it between the chocolate and graham crackers. Voila! Smores!” 

Jane was leaned forward with her twig, her head fuzzy with beer and good spirits. She was watching Maura giggle (it was safe to say her friend was a little drunk) as her brother was telling stupid stories. It had been so long since she had felt this content. Here she was with two of the closest people in her life drinking beer and making smores, laughing like children as the sun fell lower and lower behind the horizon of a sleepy city. 

“Jane!” one of them shouted. 

“Shit!” Jane sat back from the flame, blew at her blazing marshmallow. She finally got the fire out leaving behind a charred mess. “Oops.”

“That’s an example of what not to do,” Frankie said unnecessarily to Maura. He shifted his attention to her. “Something distracting you, Janie?” 

“No,” Jane said lowly. She picked up a new marshmallow. She held it over the fire. 

“Hey, I’m empty,” Frankie said, shaking his bottle. 

Jane went into the cooler. “We’re out.” 

“Really?” Frankie said, kind of surprised. Jane was too. They didn’t usually go through a case like that. “There’s more in the basement. Be right back.” 

He was a little wobbly standing, but he made it safely to the back door. 

“Jane?” 

Jane put her attention back on Maura. 

“Thank you,” she said shyly. “For inviting me. To be honest, I was nervous at how I would be received.”

“You were nervous?” Jane said, followed it up with a laugh. “You had nothing to worry about, trust me. I was the one who was nervous.” 

“Why?”

Jane pulled her twig back, not really in the mood for a smore all of a sudden. “I just figured someone like you might find my …. that this wasn’t….” 

_Enough for you._

Maura took hold of her hand, squeezed it tight. Her eyes held a different shine, like the beginning of tears. “I have never been surrounded by this much love in my entire life.”

And Jane believed it. Not because Maura couldn’t lie, but because the grip on her hand grew steadier. The doctor’s voice wavered, thick with emotion. 

Unthinkingly, Jane lifted Maura’s hand to her lips and placed a light kiss on the back of it. “There is no shortage of that here.” She lowered their hands again, smiled bravely. 

Maura sat very still. Her eyes settled on their joined hands. For a long moment, Jane thought she went a little too far. She truly did mean the gesture to be comforting, nothing more. She felt like Maura needed that. In the next moment, Maura returned her questioning eyes to Jane’s. 

Frankie came back with a six pack and plopped back down in his chair, for once not heeding much mind to what Jane was doing. He immediately went into another embarrassing childhood story. 

Maura’s attention was on Frankie again. 

She didn’t release Jane’s hand. 


	11. Marathon Day

Frankie and Jane were waiting for Maura by the bar at The Dirty Robber. She was tempted to get a beer. She wasn’t going to, of course, but if only. The Boston Marathon wasn’t some high school race. There were some serious athletes in town and the excitement was palpable. And now that Jane had friends like Maura, they had found a way to run in the race: for charity. 

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. Frankie was watching her every move. It was unnerving.

Her brother had volunteered to be on the route, providing water to the runners or general first aid. His bright yellow vest and goofy, wannabe security cop outfit complete with radio, would have normally been prime material to razz him with, but unfortunately, her outfit was so much more humiliating.

“You’re whipped.”

“Shut up, Frankie.”

“I mean, you didn’t even have to put it on. You could’ve just _not_ put it on.”

“Shut. Up. Frankie.”

“How, Janie? _How_ is it possible to be this caught up in a girl that isn’t even your girlfriend and…? Wait. Why isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Jane stomped her foot and nearly whined. “For the thousandth time, she is straight.”

“You keep saying that. I’m not sure I believe it.”

Jane pressed her lips together, hummed out a sound to keep from swearing every naughty word she had ever learned in her lifetime. Her brother gave her a toothy grin.

“Jane! Frankie!”

Maura skipped up to them eagerly. Her smile was so bright, so full of joy. For a millisecond Jane forgot she was pissed, blinded as she was with complete wonder for her friend. And then Maura was asking where her matching outfit was and her fury roared back. She reluctantly lifted her grey tee just enough to show she had it on.

“Oh no! Don’t do that! We’re running for a charity! Professionals for Underprivileged Kids of Excellence!”

“Team Puke?” Jane snapped.

Frankie snorted.

Maura conceded, “That is an unfortunate acronym.”

“At least you’re not a hot dog,” Frankie chimed in unhelpfully. They all spied the man dressed as a hot dog next to a guy dressed as a bottle of mustard. The costumes were bargain basement ugly.

“Shut up,” Jane told him pointedly. She turned back to Maura with arms folded. “I know we said we were going to do this together and there is usually nothing I wouldn’t do for you, but I can’t…. I’m not running like Lady Puke Gaga. No.”

“Oh,” Maura said, her voice barely audible. She looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry…. I ….”

Jane and Frankie both unconsciously leaned in toward each other as they tried to maintain eye contact with Maura. And she wasn’t making it easy, because at that moment she chose to turn away. What followed was a scarcely perceptible sniffle.

In horror, Jane planted herself back in front of Maura, tilting down to catch those (yes, they were definitely full of tears) green eyes and exclaimed, “Holy shit! Are you gonna cry on me?”

“Yikes. Jane doesn’t do good with crying girls.”

Jane very nearly screamed at her brother to ‘shut up!’, but she took in a deep breath instead. Calmly, she implored, “Maura, please don’t cry. Ok? Please don’t.”

Maura sniffled again. “No, I'm trying not to. It's just that my amygdala and my lacrimal gland have a connection that I can't really control.”

Jane wasn’t deterred. She couldn’t be. She had to fight Maura on this. If not for herself, but for the sake of dignity itself. “Honey. There is no way in hell I am taking this off, all right? I'm already running twenty-six miles with a camel toe.”

“Whoa,” Frankie said, turning away.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Maura was trying valiantly to stop.

“Maura,” Jane said in warning. Her tone was firm. She was not going to run in this outfit.

Her friend’s eyes continued to glisten. Her eyes blinked rapidly.

“Maura,” Jane said again, almost on the brink of resignation. She was losing. She was _going_ to lose.

A tear escaped; it was hastily wiped away.

And that was how Jane found herself stripping off her t-shirt and shorts to reveal her ridiculous blue Team PUKE outfit, following after Maura while her brother made a loud ‘whipping’ sound behind her back.

Just before exiting the bar, Jane whirled back around to flip him the finger.

***

It was mile 12.

Maura had set a decent pace. And Jane felt she was doing well. There was still a bit of a rush coursing through her, being surrounded by so many people, so much energy. It was electrifying. Jane had not considered that running a long-distance race would actually be fun. She wasn’t on a treadmill or circling her old neighborhood; two places that held little to no excitement since all they served up to be was a place to get some work in. She was in a crowd that thrummed, feet that pulsed out a common rhythm. The two of them had ceased their bantering. It was just sneakers hitting pavement, their breathing in sync.

It was going so well that it was inevitable that it would go horrifically wrong.

“Is it bad?” Jane said, grimacing.

Maura looked up at her, a small smirk on her lips. “It’s a cramp.”

“Oh no, so much worse,” Jane whined, leaning back on the gurney. “It’s a Charley Horse and I’m _dying_.”

Maura, unsurprisingly, agreed. “Well, metabolically speaking, we are dying a little bit each day.”

“Maura,” Jane sighed, shutting her eyes. “Just how do we make it stop?”

Maura rested her hands upon Jane’s uninjured leg, gave a brief soothing rub motion. “Warm compress, staying hydrated.”

“God, I feel so bad,” Jane said, shooting her friend a contrite look. “You should’ve kept running instead of sitting in here with me.”

“We said we were doing this together, right?” Maura said. Jane nodded. “So, together means together.”

Together. Jane wanted nothing more than to be together with Maura. And maybe it was just her, but occasionally she felt like she was actually reading Maura all wrong. Like now, for instance. Maura’s hands had found a place on her thigh, the move both comforting and borderline intimate. It was familiar. It was kind. It was a magnet that drew her hand to rest on top of Maura’s.

There was also the soft gaze that settled on Jane and studied her, _always_ studying her. And Jane would look back and wonder what it was that Maura found so damn interesting about her face. How was it they found themselves in the strangest of staring contests over and over and over again?

The tent flapped open and Frankie entered.

And of course, there was her brother. He was also her biggest cheerleader and admittedly, his enthusiasm was rubbing off on her. And that was such a dangerous thing. Because Maura, despite what Jane’s mind was tricking her into believing, was not gay. And they were best friends.

“Finally found the right tent! You okay, Janie?”

“Yeah,” Jane said, her disappointment evident. “Just bummed.”

“Well, Maura can fix you right up, right?” Frankie said hopefully.

“Not much to be done for a cramp, I’m afraid,” Maura said. “But we should be able to work our way out of this crowd and back home soon. We’ll get you set up on the couch to rest. I’ll see if I can find an official to help us out.”

Maura gave Jane’s leg another reassuring squeeze before leaving. Jane’s eyes trailed after her and her gaze stayed on the tent entrance for much longer than necessary.

“You need to ask her out,” Frankie said, breaking her trance. “You basically live in her condo. She called it home like you both live there.”

“Don’t you have water to hand out?” Jane said bitingly. “…. damn it!” She tensed up again. The spasms were getting worse.

“Ask her out.”

“Leave, Frankie.”

“I’m going to have to fix this. I can tell.”

“Really? I’m in pain here!”

“Emotional pain, I know.”

“My leg, you jackass!”

Maura came back in, a sympathetic smile aimed in Jane’s direction. She was back at her side, linking their hands together. “An official can grab us a wheelchair. Then we’ll go home.”

Jane smiled, but then spied her brother standing behind Maura now. He was mouthing ‘ask her out!’ like the idiot that he was. He was even pointing at Maura animatedly as if she had absolutely no idea who he was talking about. Jane could feel her conflicting emotions playing out on her face. The soft, appreciative smile she was giving Maura versus the scowl she wanted to shoot at Frankie.

Her idiot brother wasn’t going to give up. He stepped forward. She vigorously shook her head ‘no’ as her eyes widened at the movement.

As she feared, Frankie sidled up next to her friend with a big grin on his face.

“So Maura, maybe once Jane is feeling better you two can…”

“Do nothing?” Jane said, cutting off her brother. Her glare was shooting daggers, she knew this. As kids, he would cower. As adults?

“This one loves to joke,” Frankie said. “But really. You both could use a normal night out, right?”

Maura looked to be ready to reply. Jane cut in again.

“No, we don’t have to…”

“Go back to Merch. That would be fun.”

“Go back to Merch?” Jane repeated. Frankie smirked, motioned for her to continue. So, of course she backtracked. “I mean, we don’t have to…” Frankie motioned more intensely for her to keep going while Maura quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. Jane tried a different tact. “You never really got to, like, enjoy it. With me being held hostage?”

Frankie nodded encouragingly.

“That is true,” Maura said. Her eyes were still inquisitive. Her tone sounded uncertain, but not disinterested.

“They have an amazing DJ set on Friday nights or they used to,” Jane continued. She was beginning to bomb this whole thing. “With the new ownership and all, it will probably actually be fun. This time. Maybe.”

A long moment passed before Maura smiled and nodded. “Okay. Maybe next Friday?”

Jane found herself breathing again. “Next Friday.”

“I’ll go see if that wheelchair is on the way,” Frankie said, winking at her before exiting the tent.

Jane wasn’t sure if she wanted to throttle her brother or hug him.

***

Maura wanted to make a quick run to a pharmacy for some supplies, leaving Jane set up on Maura’s couch. Her leg was elevated and her compress had been warmed up again. She had gone through three glasses of water and reluctantly allowed Maura to walk her to the bathroom when all of that water came roaring back.

But now she was sitting back, grapes in a bowl in her lap and she held one of them in her palm.

“Alright you,” she said to it. “Just work one time and I won’t let you suffer the same fate as the ones that came before.”

She smirked to herself, tossed the grape into the air, opened her mouth and attempted to catch it. Just like the grapes before it, it bounced off her forehead and hit the ground. It joined the first four she had attempted to catch in her mouth and missed.

She heard the front door open and she immediately said, “I can explain the grapes on the floor!”

She said it as a preemptive apology. When she saw who rounded the corner, however, she began to realize she needed a different kind of apology.

“Uh, Mrs. Isles. Hi.”

“Jane,” Constance said back. Her eyes narrowed as she looked Jane over. “I see you have my daughter patching you up again.”

“Oh, um, I got a cramp?” Jane said, but her nervousness made her answer more of a question.

“A cramp?”

“Uh, yes. We hit mile 12 and my leg seized up,” Jane said, her disappointment was still clear. “Maura helped me home---back here. To help me.”

Constance didn’t miss the use of the word ‘home’ nor the use of the word ‘help’ twice. Not by a longshot.

“Jane. You are good at your job….”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Jane said wearily, shutting her eyes as if that would block out the words being said next.

“ _But_ I’m beginning to feel ill at ease with regard to your relationship with my daughter,” Constance finished coolly. Jane had seen this look before. The overprotective mother. The same look her first girlfriend’s homophobic mother used to give her.

“We’re friends, Mrs. Isles, but…,” Jane began to say.

“Friends? I seriously doubt that,” Constance said with an incredulous laugh.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Jane said back sharply. Constance gave her a surprised gawk. “We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel more.”

Constance folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I get it!” Jane said, her voice rising a little. “I mean, you’re my boss. She’s your kid. But I’m not the type of person who would try to take advantage in any way. That’s not who I am.”

“And yet you are here. Again. Taking advantage of her kindness!”

Jane felt hot. Overwhelmed. “OK, wait a minute. You and I both know Maura would never allow anyone to use her. She’s kind, not naïve.”

“Maura is reckless with her heart.”

“Why do you think so little of her?”

Jane was getting angry. She needed to cool down, regroup. Apologize for overstepping, but how could she allow Constance to doubt Maura’s integrity? To question her judgment?

“I don’t think so lit--…” Constance began, then stopped herself. “I love Maura. She’s my only daughter. I wouldn’t be here entertaining this conversation if I wasn’t concerned for her.”

Jane frowned. “What could you possibly be…?” Jane’s voice trailed off as she surmised what was likely bothering her boss. “You’re not worried about my feelings. You’re worried about _hers_.”

“I’m worried she’s making a mistake.”

Jane chuckled ruefully, rubbing a hand over her face. “Well, listen. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Constance eyed her curiously. “You don’t think Maura returns your affections?”

Jane countered the question with one of her own. “No, I don’t. Question is, why do you?”

Jane viewed the older woman and in a matter of seconds, Constance unexpectedly looked smaller. Less imposing. Her posture had relaxed and she even formed a tiny smile. Jane wasn’t sure what to feel now. Why was Constance looking so human all of a sudden?

“Maura always sees the good in people. _Always_. She gave her heart away to someone who didn’t take care of it. She closed herself off. Until she met you.”

Jane didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. She waited patiently for Constance to continue.

“Maura poured herself into her studies. Her work. She occasionally tried to make friends, entertain suitors but nothing would come of it. She was promoted about a week before I hired you. We had fought over her job, her needlessly relentless pursuit of a career that served nothing more than to keep her busy. She told me that I should give you a chance. A real chance, because she knew I hired you out of desperation. So, I did. And then you saved her life from that detective and admittedly, I began to regret hiring you less.”

“Mrs. Isles,” Jane said softly, not sure what she wanted to say. “Maura didn’t really need saving.”

“But you stayed with her. You helped her to feel less afraid.”

“Mrs. Isles,” Jane tried again.

“I said you can call me Constance.”

Jane laughed. “Um, I appreciate that, but I’m never gonna call you that.”

“You are smarter than I give you credit for,” Constance said, unfolding her arms.

“So, am I fired or…?” Jane asked.

The front door opened and Maura walked into the living room putting an end to the conversation. Maura could definitely see the tension writ on both of their faces. Hesitantly she asked them, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I was just checking up on both of you,” Constance said. The lie was delivered smoothly. “I’ll let you rest.”

The matriarch left without really answering the question, but she also wasn’t being tossed out of Maura’s place. So maybe ‘safe for now’ was the best assumption to make.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Maura asked, walking over to the couch. She looked down at Jane with a marked concern.

“Definitely,” Jane said with a smile. She hoped it looked genuine. “She just wanted to check in. It’s fine.”

Maura smiled back. “Okay. Do you need anything? I wanted to review some reports before…”

“Go, Maura. I’m fine,” Jane said. She waved her off as if to shoo her away. “Go be amazing while I sit here and enjoy your big screen TV.”

“Okay,” Maura said contentedly, taking a step back. There was a squelch sound when she did that. She looked down to see what she stepped on. “Why are there grapes on my floor?”

“I can explain….”


	12. Late Night Drive By

Jane looked down at her pilfered phone. 

Barry was going to arrest her, probably. Well, she hoped he wouldn’t but seeing how she had his phone and was currently using his tech to track Maura’s phone, he was probably definitely going to arrest her. Or kill her. He was a homicide detective. He could hide her body and leave no traces. 

But she couldn’t sit and _wait_ any longer. Cavanaugh, Dean, even Barry were spinning their wheels. The young detective had pulled her aside, explained that Paddy was asking for money now. 

“Track her phone,” Jane demanded of Barry. 

“You think I didn’t try that already?” he said, soundly mildly offended. “Her last ping was a few blocks from here. She’s in the wind, Jane.”

“There has to be _something_ ,” Jane said irritably. 

“We’re checking all his previous known locations and contacts, but he has been in hiding for _years_ , Jane. He’s not holed up at any of his old spots.”

“Frost, I…. we _can’t_ do nothing,” Jane pleaded. She knew she sounded desperate and quite frankly, she was.

Barry remained calm as he placed a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Jane, I want her back just as much as you do, but he put in a ransom demand. That’s above this city’s resources. That’s above Cavanaugh.” 

Jane laughed darkly. “Don’t you think that was kind of the point, Frost? Demand a ransom, the city has to pull out a different playbook, call the Feds for help. You’re deadlocked.”

“Jane, I’m sorry. Really, I am,” Barry said again. “Go home. I’ll call you if I learn anything more, I promise.” 

Jane watched in defeat as the detective walked away. She wasn’t mad at him, she wasn’t. She was scared senseless. So much so she worried that Paddy had more nefarious intentions. The man was in the mob, had killed countless people and he had the audacity to kidnap Maura from within her place of employment, right under the nose of the cops. Why go through all of that if his plans weren’t more odious? 

Her hand started to ache; the old wound almost felt like it was burning. She stretched the muscles, then tightened her hand into a fist. It had been maybe a week or two since Maura last massaged her palm, but mostly because she had been doing fine without it. It wasn’t necessary to massage it every day. Now it ached just as much as her heart. 

Her phone rang on her belt. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Maura. It wasn’t. 

“Hey.” 

“Wow, you sound like crap,” Frankie said. His voice sounded a bit far away. “Is your date going that bad?”

“I mean, it feels like there’s a hole in my chest,” she said, trying to deliver those words with humor and not sadness. “Otherwise, I’m fine.” 

Frankie was every bit the caring brother when he asked her, “What happened?” 

“Maura was kidnapped.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah,” Jane said. Her voice was tremulous as she confessed, “Frankie, I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Janie,” Frankie said quietly, a slight scratchy quality to his voice. He had grown very fond of Maura himself. “Maura is a smart girl. She’ll be okay.” 

Jane rubbed her eyes as she settled on the fact that there was nothing more for her to do here. When she opened them, she spied Barry’s phone on his desk. 

The detective had forgotten it.

“I gotta go Frankie.” Jane ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Before Jane even took stock of the choice she had made, she was down in the lab with one of the crime unit technicians. She implored that Barry needed the phone unlocked. It could help find Maura, she said. 

“Think you can unlock it?” 

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy!”

They were such dorks down here and she loved them. She hated that she was deceiving them. 

The tech didn’t give it much more thought. He was very used to seeing Jane in the morgue and a lot of the team even believed she worked with Maura. She wasn’t about to tell them otherwise, especially not now. 

Once Barry’s phone was opened, she ran into Maura’s office. She frantically looked through the desk until she found Maura’s car keys. Soon she was speeding out of the parking garage feeling ridiculous driving a little blue Prius given the hectic nature of the situation. 

She knew she had no idea how to work the app, but she supposed she could pick up where the tracker left off. 

She drove to the last place Maura’s phone pinged. Parking the Prius, Jane hopped out to find herself in an abandoned alleyway. A dumpster, a bike missing a wheel, an expended needle. She might as well have found herself in the middle of a dark, desolate desert. She was unlikely to find anything here especially if they didn’t even stop here at all.

Barry was right. Maura would be difficult to find.

Jane swallowed hard. She had never felt so helpless. Not even the night a stake was driven through her hand compared to this terror. 

To her surprise, the phone sounded an alert. His app lit up with a blinking green dot on the map.

Maura’s phone had been turned back on? There was no way she was this lucky, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth either. According to the map, Maura was not too far from where they found Adam Fairfield. 

Question now was, should she call Dean and Barry?

Her panic to find Maura convinced her she had no time to waste. She had already taken the phone. She would ask for forgiveness later. 

She broke many traffic laws along the way and she was momentarily grateful she wasn’t a cop with her hands tied over procedure, waiting on ranking officers to make a decision.

The docks were a foreboding place at night and it was even worse driving without headlights, but she didn’t want to give herself away. Looking at the app, she determined she had to be near the right warehouse and parked the car. 

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail to keep it from distracting her. 

She released the safety on her gun. 

_Eight hours earlier_

“Something isn’t right,” Maura murmured, mostly to herself. She was reviewing some reports. She had been somewhat tightlipped since Jane had stopped in to grab her for dinner, oh, about 20 minutes prior. Normally, she could wait patiently, but this was Friday. Like _the_ Friday. First a light dinner, then go home and get changed, then a night of debauchery (Jane’s word, not Maura’s) at Merch. 

She and Maura had actually been excited about going the closer Friday got. What to wear and how to spend their time? It sounded very date-ish because maybe it was. Maybe Jane had erred when she told Constance she was wrong about her daughter’s feelings. Maybe Maura did ‘return her affections’. But at present, Maura’s eyes had been glued to this folder. She was starting to dread that they weren’t going to make it at all.

Jane was leaning back in a chair in Maura’s office. She decided to play the impatient card. Whine a little bit. Maybe that would get her friend moving. “Maura, I’m hungry. You ready yet?” 

“Just a moment,” Maura mumbled distractedly. 

“You said that six ‘just a moment’s ago,” Jane reminded her, sitting up straight again. “Let’s go. You need to eat.” 

Maura put her papers down slowly. 

Jane stood up as soon as she saw Maura’s stricken face. “Oh, honey. What’s wrong?” 

“I didn’t believe it so I ran it again,” Maura said quietly. 

Jane rounded her desk, crouched down so that she wouldn’t tower over Maura and placed a hand on her knee. “Ran what again?” 

“The DNA test for the ice pick victim,” Maura said. “That man is a biological match. To me.” 

“Uh, wow, ok,” Jane said, dumbfounded. She took hold of Maura’s hands, clasped gently. “This is probably a stupid question, but are you sure you didn’t contaminate the sample in some way?”

“I’m certain,” Maura replied firmly. “That man is my brother. Colin Doyle is my brother.” 

Jane would surely need to brush up on her Irish mob history, but Doyle was as famous a name in those circles as Isles was for the Boston elite. 

Maura’s grip tensed in Jane’s hands. “My family, my _real_ family, they are criminals.” 

Oh. Her _real_ family. Why didn’t she make that connection immediately? Maura was adopted. This bombshell was just growing bigger by the second. 

“What if …. Do you think he’s killed people? I have his DNA; I could be just like him.” 

Jane instantly touched Maura’s face, caressed her cheek, swiped a thumb across the skin. “No, Maura. Don’t go down that road. That leads to very bad thoughts, ok?” 

“My mother never said anything about where she got me,” Maura went on. “Do you think she knew?”

Jane shook her head vehemently. “I don’t believe for a second Constance would intentionally keep something like that from you.” 

Maura closed her eyes. “His father… _our_ father. What are the chances it’s Paddy Doyle?” 

“Pretty high, I suspect,” Jane said, knowing her words were anything but soothing. Another troubling thought hit her. “Maura, we have to consider that Colin’s death was a mob hit. Just because _you_ didn’t know who your family was doesn’t mean Colin’s killer doesn’t. You could be in danger.” 

Maura reluctantly agreed. “We have to tell Dean and Frost.” She shot Jane a sympathetic look. “I think that means we have to cancel tonight’s plans.” 

“You being safe is all that matters to me,” Jane insisted. Her heart was breaking a little, but the truth of the matter was, Maura’s life was potentially in danger. A night of debauchery could wait. “We’ll have Frost put a protective detail on you.” 

Maura shook her head. “I’ll just stay here. I’m at the police station. It doesn’t get much safer.” 

***

Jane would’ve laughed if she wasn’t trying to be super stealth. 

The police station was compromised. Cavanaugh was probably ripping out what little bit of hair he had wondering who the hell would have given Paddy Doyle access to the morgue allowing him to kidnap Maura. 

Jane found an unlocked door. Again, too lucky. Too easy. 

Paddy might as well have put a huge neon sign proclaiming ‘Maura is here!’. Maybe that was the point. He was either being really nice or setting up a trap. 

She paused in every doorway. She inched her way along the near pitch-black hallway, felt her heart rate begin to rise. There was more playing about here than just finding Maura. Jane knew she would move heaven and earth to do so. It was what she would need to do _after_ she found her, because there was not one scenario that Jane wanted to dream up in which she didn’t find Maura. 

And after she found Maura? She would have to tell her. Jane had been afraid to say anything for what felt like a whole host of stupid reasons now but she had to be honest with Maura, right? Could she be brave enough to risk their friendship by giving herself away? 

Telling Maura what was on her heart very nearly outpaced the degree to which her heart raced in the present moment. But she could possibly be facing a future without her friend. A future where she didn’t get to say ….

What was in reality only a few minutes felt like hours before Jane finally saw some light at the end of the tunnel. A glow emitted around the upcoming corner. She controlled her breathing as she leaned back against the wall, getting as close to the corner as she dared. She listened. It was quiet. 

Jane rounded the corner into a dimly lit empty space. She was moving quickly, her gun pointed in every direction she looked. There was no one except for one lone figure. In the middle of the space stood Maura. Her back was to Jane, she was motionless. Jane’s eyes darted around quickly not seeing another soul. She whispered, “Maura?” 

Her friend jumped, spun around quickly. Once she saw who it was, her body relaxed but her expression was tormented. “Jane? How did you?” 

“Frost,” Jane said. She wasn’t about to elaborate on what she had done. She looked around again. 

“We’re alone,” Maura assured. 

“Are you sure?” Jane said, reluctant to lower her weapon. 

“Yes,” Maura nodded. “He gave me back my phone to call for help. He never intended on holding me here. He just wanted to talk.” 

“He just _left_ you here?” Jane said, her anger spiking. She lowered her weapon a little. “He called in a ransom…we thought …” 

“He left only a few minutes ago,” Maura said, as if to excuse the behavior. “I… he was talking to me but I was so angry, I’m not even sure what he was trying to say. He cut his hand, wiped the blood with his handkerchief.”

Jane could see the cloth Maura was holding. “Are you going to test it?” 

“Why?” she said, pushing a laugh through her lips. “He willingly gave this to me. I know what it means.”

Jane took a moment to recognize that Maura was making an assumption It was most definitely a correct assumption, but a more stable, clear headed Maura Isles would have insisted on testing before assuming anything.

Apathy in a person like Maura was definitely a warning sign. An indication she definitely wasn’t alright. Jane stepped toward her slowly, implored to her friend, “Listen, I trust you but not him. Let’s get going, ok?”

Maura merely shrugged; her face began to crumple. “Jane…, he’s really my father.” 

At this, Jane finally holstered her weapon as Maura fell into her. Jane wanted to leave, but the way Maura clung to her, it immobilized her. She was powerless. Jane whispered into her hair, “Everything is going to be okay, honey. I got you.”

She expected Maura to refute her, to say that Jane couldn’t promise such a thing but those words never came. Maura’s fingers gripped the lapels of her jacket tightly, her head tucked into Jane’s neck and she sobbed. Jane held on, continued to whisper nonsense until it seemed Maura was beginning to calm. 

“Maura, let me take you home, alright?” Jane said quietly. She pulled away slowly, just enough to see Maura’s eyes. “Let’s go home.” 

Maura blinked furiously, wiped at the wetness underneath her eyes. “Okay.” She allowed Jane to hold her close as they walked but it finally seemed to dawn on her friend that their current circumstance was unusual. 

“Jane. Why are you alone?” 

She knew the question was coming. She still didn’t want to answer it.

“Yeah,” Jane said guiltily. “Frost has probably just figured out I stole his phone and borrowed your car.” 

Maura made them stop. “Jane…” 

“I wasn’t waiting for them to make a move, Maura.” 

Jane’s voice was stern, so serious.

In another un-Maura like move, she didn’t fight Jane on it, but her eyes were inquiring, studying her. She was _always_ studying her now. Ultimately, Maura nodded mutely and they continued to make their way out of the warehouse.

When they made it to the car Jane helped her into the passenger seat. Soon they were on their way back to Cambridge. 

Maura’s silence was heavy.

***

Constance Isles was pacing the lobby when they came through the doors. 

Maura had called ahead to ease her mother’s worries. She felt as if she was intruding, so Jane stood back while they hugged. Mrs. Isles was a completely different person. She was emotional, unguarded. She was holding Maura like they had been apart for years and not just a few hours. She heard Constance say ‘I’m sorry’ and it made Jane wonder what she had to be sorry for. 

Constance spied Jane over Maura’s shoulder. 

“Jane,” Constance said, suddenly stony, her voice sharp. She pulled away from Maura, but not enough to completely detangle their embrace. 

“Yes, Mrs. Isles?” 

“I know your shift is over, but …” 

“I’ll take care of her,” Jane promised straightaway. 

When Jane went to follow Maura to the elevators, Constance held her arm briefly and ordered, “Don’t you leave her.” 

“Never,” Jane assured. 

Something shifted in their relationship just then; Jane could feel it. 

Constance was no longer just her boss. She wasn’t sure what they were just yet, but it was blatantly clear that Constance trusted Jane with Maura’s life.


	13. Day by Day

Jane studied her phone a moment longer before tiredly tossing it onto the bed. Still no reply. Not that she really expected one. She was rubbing her eyes when Maura exited her bathroom. As she rummaged through a dresser drawer, she asked, “Everything alright?”

Jane pushed a laugh between her lips. “Well, Frost is still giving me the silent treatment. And Dean’s yelling is still ringing in my ears.”

“That was two days ago.”

“I didn’t know the pitch of Dean’s voice could get so _high_.”

Maura smiled a little at the joke as she moved in next to Jane on the bed. She propped her head on Jane’s shoulder, released a tired sigh. “They’ll forgive you.”

“If I were them, I wouldn’t forgive me,” Jane reasoned. 

Had she been a cop or dare she dream, a detective, her actions would have stripped her of her badge and gun. She actually felt relieved that Dean didn’t threaten anything more than his loud, screeching baritone. What really sucked was having Frost furious with her. 

“Jane, they will forgive you,” Maura repeated undoubtedly. In a tone that was more playful than Maura surely felt, she added, “Dropping Barry’s phone in the sewer grate outside the station certainly didn’t help…”

Jane grimaced at the memory of the following morning, sheepishly handing Frost’s phone back to him only for her to fumble it and watch it fall in the sewer. She could practically see the steam puffing out of his ears.

“Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious. My butter fingers made things worse.”

Maura sat up again, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “If I know you -and I think I’ve got a good idea on how you think-, if given the chance you wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

Jane met Maura’s softened gaze. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Then be patient. Barry will forgive you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Simple. You did it for me.”

Jane fought the impulse to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Maura’s ear. For some reason that gesture felt too intimate. A move like that could easily lead to more purposely running her fingers through the silky strands. It was time to change course.

“You’re trying to comfort me when I should be comforting you. How are you feeling? You took a long shower.”

“Honestly, I’m exhausted,” Maura admitted quietly. She sounded repentant but what for Jane wasn’t sure. 

“Still not sleeping?”

Her friend shook her head. 

Jane smiled at her. “Alright, come here, little spoon.”

“Little spoon?” Maura repeated inquisitively.

“Lay down, back to me.”

Maura did as she was told. 

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable,” Jane said before she moved, pressed her stomach to Maura’s back, snaked her arm over Maura’s torso and gently pulled Maura into her. “See? Little spoon.”

She literally felt Maura’s tension melt away. It had been two nights since Paddy took her. Jane had barely left her side and she attributed that to three big reasons. 

One, she didn’t want to leave. Yes, that was selfish and no, she didn’t care. 

Two, Constance practically made it an order and had even told Charles and Darren to cover the door this week. That shift in their relationship that Jane had felt? It had practically been tectonic. 

Three, Maura didn’t want her to leave. She wasn’t someone who minced words, so when Maura said ‘don’t go’, Jane obeyed. 

So now it was late evening on day three of this department ordered vacation and now Maura had expressed she was tired but had been unable to sleep soundly. And Jane had been staying the night in the guest bed but that hadn’t been enough. 

“So, if I’m the little spoon, what does that make you?”

“The big spoon …seriously? No one has ever shown you this before?” Jane was teasing, always teasing. But she had been far gentler than in weeks’ past. 

“I’ve been held this way before,” Maura replied somewhat haughtily. “The vernacular is new to me.” 

“Hm, okay, well I am the master at being the big spoon,” Jane said with pride. “So, get comfy.” 

Maura chuckled. Her fingers threaded with Jane’s and then she announced, “Okay. I’m comfy.” 

“Good,” Jane said back softly. She marveled at how well their fingers linked together, how soft her skin was, how completely okay they both were with this slight change in their closeness.

Jane had grown accustomed to Maura leaning her head against her shoulder while sitting on the couch watching a movie. She reveled in every fleeting touch Maura would use to show empathy, comfort, happiness. A ‘tsk tsk’ tap on her hands when reaching for a sweet before dinner. Or gripping her forearm tightly while they laughed over something stupid until they cried. Hugging her when either of them signaled they needed one.

And now this.

Jane unconsciously pulled Maura impossibly closer.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Jane selfishly enjoyed the smell of Maura’s shampoo, the way the smaller woman’s body molded into hers. Maura was all supple curves; she was warm and most importantly, alive.

Jane was certain that she would never tire of being this close to Maura. She would greedily take advantage of any and every opportunity to hold her like this. 

“You probably think me a child.” Maura sounded embarrassed, disappointed. It cut through what had previously been a peaceful calm. 

“No. You are an adult who just found out their biological father is a mobster and that’s pretty messed up. You’re allowed to work through that.” 

“I just feel silly,” Maura confessed. “I am an adult. I should be reacting like one.” 

Jane laughed lightly into her friend’s hair. “Really? Please explain to me how anyone is supposed to react to what happened to you.” 

Maura didn’t reply right away. Jane knew she was overthinking this. 

When Maura spoke next, her voice was so small. “A child hides in their room. Forces their best friend to keep them company.”

Maura was really trying to disparage herself, but Jane wasn’t going to allow it. 

“An adult processes trauma in the best way they know how. They aren’t afraid to ask for help,” Jane corrected. She curled their interlinking fingers to tighten their hold. “And you are not forcing me to do anything. You asked me to stay. I’m staying.” 

They were silent for a beat. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Jane.” 

Jane smiled. She replied with just as much astonishment, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

***

Jane smirked as she watched Maura do that thing she did with her brow when she was completely baffled. Jane hadn’t always been just an ‘act now think about the consequences later’ type of gal. She also had the ability to think ahead, to strategize. It was a trait that was constantly highlighted in her time at the Academy. It was necessary to be a detective. 

But since she wasn’t a detective and had fallen into a job that was both heartening and painfully dull at the same time, she had to settle for the only analytical activity that Maura had ever heard of: chess. 

She promised at a later date she would teach Maura how to play _Clue_ , a Rizzoli Family Game Night classic.

“What’s wrong, Maur?” Jane teased. 

Maura’s eyes flicked up from the board. “Nothing.” 

Jane leaned back in her chair, folded her arms. “You’re just taking a long time, is all.” 

“I’m not…!” Maura started, then paused long enough to reclaim some of her calm. “My focus is just split.” 

“The point of playing was to un-split your focus,” Jane reminded her. 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You know what I mean, goober.”

“I don’t know who I am.”

Having said that, she finally made a move. “And your placements are …. chaotic.” 

Jane was grinning again while she chided. “First off, stop it. You are the same smart, amazing, goofy person you’ve always been. That man is just a sperm donor.” 

Jane made a quick move. She had pretty much figured out the next three, but Maura could definitely throw her game off if she would just _focus_ on the board. “Also, my gameplay is actually pretty normal. You’re not paying attention.” 

“He’s a killer.” Maura made another move. It was her knight and she was playing right into Jane’s hands. “And to be frank, I wasn’t expecting you to be good at this.”

Jane pretended to be wounded. “Ouch! I’ll have you know I have a beautiful mind!” Her next move was again swift. “And just because Paddy is a killer doesn’t make you one.” 

Maura studied the board quietly again. 

Jane watched Maura’s eyes dart from one side to the next. And…. _there_ it was. Recognition. Maura had lost the game well before now.

“Damn,” she muttered. She looked at Jane and shook her head in amazement. “Four moves back….” 

“Yep,” Jane confirmed. She used the tip of her finger to rock a pawn back and forth on the board in what was probably coming off as a mocking motion. “I told you….” 

“I wasn’t paying attention, I know,” Maura said back, her tone humored. “Where did you learn to play?” 

“Self-taught. Used to kick Tommy’s ass all the time,” Jane said unthinkingly. 

“Tommy?” 

Jane shut her eyes, cursed inwardly. She had not mentioned Tommy, not once. “Uh, yeah. He’s my kid brother.” 

“I thought Frankie…?” 

“I have two idiot brothers. Except one decided to work with our dad and the other landed in jail for petty theft and a DUI. He nearly ran over our priest. We don’t talk about it a lot.” 

“Hmm,” Maura said, clearly in thought. After another moment, she asked for clarification, “Your priest?” 

“Yeah,” Jane sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair again. “Ma is actually starting to really bug the rest of us since he’s up for parole soon. She somehow convinced Pop that …. I dunno, that Tommy can be helped.” 

“Oh,” Maura said softly. “You don’t think he can be?”

Jane shrugged. “I swear, Tommy just did stupid shit to piss me off. He knew I wanted to be a cop. He would get into trouble and I would have to defend him. I mean, what was I going to do? Pretend I didn’t know him?” 

“He’s your brother,” Maura reasoned. 

“He’s a jackass,” Jane laughed. “He was smart! He could’ve gone to school. He could’ve done so much more.” 

“Well, if he’s related to you and Frankie, I can’t imagine he doesn’t have a good heart,” Maura rationalized.

Jane was struck again by Maura’s warmth and kindness. “I guess aside from being a thief he’s not all bad.”

“I hope I get the chance to meet him.”

Jane immediately shook her head. “Uh, no. You are way too pretty and he is way too stupid to know when he’s got no shot. I’ll be saving you so much grief, trust me.”

There was a beat of silence before Maura said so softly, “You think I’m pretty?”

Jane felt the inevitable blush hit her cheeks at being called out on the compliment. But Maura wasn’t offended. No, she was definitely not offended. She seemed to be taken aback. Like she didn’t understand that she was the most beautiful person Jane had ever been in the presence of. How could Maura not see that?

In the most confident voice she could muster, she replied, “Of course I do.”

Maura ducked her head a little, pushed some hair behind her ear nervously.

Jane averted her eyes down as well pretending not to notice the effect her words were having.

She smiled to herself as she began to reset the board. 

***

“Frost just called. They found a man named O’Rourke stabbed to death with an ice pick.” 

Jane was sipping from a mug while Maura delivered this news. She could see the distress on Maura’s face. They had become effortlessly domestic over the last few days. Eating all their meals together. Tending to Bass and some of the surrounding gardens that looked neglected on the roof. Casually discussing science-based stuff that Jane had no interest in, but listening to Maura speak so passionately made all the long, SAT words worth stumbling over. 

For the most part, Paddy and his dealings were nothing but a distant notion. Until something like a phone call or an unexpected panic attack sent Maura into a deep gloom.

Jane tried to remain casual as she said, “I guess someone at the precinct gave him a lead on who might’ve killed Colin? Probably the same someone that helped Paddy kidnap you?” 

“That seems like a logical conclusion,” Maura conceded. She returned to the stool next to Jane, took ahold of her mug but didn’t drink. “I just don’t understand why. He could have stayed hidden. Why did he reveal himself?”

Jane felt pangs of compassion hit her heart. “Maura, a man like Paddy Doyle keeps tabs on his family. He’s probably known you your whole life, unable to reach out until now. He’s your father and as messed up as he is, he has probably been waiting a long time for the chance to meet you.”

“I suppose,” Maura said. She crossed her arms in such a way, it was like she was hugging herself. As if to protect her heart from the unpleasant stench that followed Paddy Doyle. “I don’t understand why you seem to be defending him.” 

Jane started, “I’m not defend…” She paused. Bashfully she said, “Okay, maybe a little. I dunno. You got me to consider that my brother could be more than his record. I know Paddy has done so much worse, but he’s your family. Sometimes there’s relief in truth; in knowing who your family is.”

Maura frowned a little. She reached across the table beckoning Jane’s hand. When Jane slipped her hand into Maura’s, her friend stated, “He’s not my family. He never was. But you, Jane, you have enriched my life in a way that Paddy never will. You and your family readily accepted me. And that means the world to me.” 

Jane couldn’t keep the smile from stretching across her face. “My family has claimed you. You’re stuck with us.” 

Maura smiled back. “Happily.” 

***

It was Thursday night and the crowd at Merch was mellow, laidback. The patrons were chatting, a quiet roar over the rhythm and blues band at the back of the bar. It wasn’t the night of debauchery that Jane had promised, but maybe this was more their style anyway. The theme of the night allowed for them to just be in the moment. And the longer the night went on, the more Jane was wrapped up in everything that was Maura Isles. Her perfume, the dangle of earrings, the sparkle in her dress; all of it was mesmerizing. 

She had promised herself to be honest with Maura about her feelings, but her friend had been so distraught over the past few days. It didn’t seem like the right time to drop something like, ‘By the way, I love you’ on top of everything. But now that Maura was smiling bright, her mood elevated and lively, Jane was having a hard time keeping it all to herself. Because she really did love this woman. 

“Wanna dance?” Jane asked hopefully. She wasn’t really a dancer, but the band had begun a smooth, slow melody. She could handle that. 

Maura didn’t answer right away. She was studying Jane again, her eyes cataloging everything. As if she was trying to read something, to understand it. Finally, she said, “Okay.” 

Jane grinned, offered her hand. 

She led Maura to the dance floor. Jane wondered at first where to put her hands, but Maura had already loosely rested her arms on Jane’s shoulders, her hands around her neck. Naturally, Jane placed her hands at Maura’s hips and before too long, they were swaying and talking and laughing. Once, then twice Jane noticed Maura’s gaze slip ever so briefly down. Then Maura would be smiling again as if she had never broken eye contact. 

“This is nice,” Maura said affectionately, having had to lean up and closer to Jane’s ear to be heard. 

“Yeah,” Jane agreed, feeling all the oxygen in the room begin to disperse. She wasn’t necessarily suffocating, but it certainly felt like the entire environment had zeroed in on her friend. And Maura remained close, cheek to cheek. 

Jane felt her eyes close, heard nothing but a soft thunder in her ears. Her heart a jackhammer in her chest. When she opened them again, all she saw was Maura. 

“Jane,” she said timidly. It was a question, Jane knew this. 

“Yeah, Maura?” 

“I think I…,” Maura started and this time when her eyes dropped, Jane knew it was at her lips. 

A short intake of breath signaled Jane’s long overdue epiphany.

Maura had convinced her mother to hire her. Maura laughed at her dumb jokes. Maura always offered reassurances, always reminded her that she was a formidable woman, a _capable_ woman. Maura said she was gorgeous. Maura cared for her, patched up her wounds both emotional and physical. Maura had all but admitted she was physically attracted her. She had even allowed Jane to call the tortoise a turtle even though Jane knew it irritated the crap out of her. 

Maura Isles had expressed her love in so many ways.

Frankie saw it. So did Constance.

And Jane had willfully ignored all of those things because she had been so mired by self doubt and insecurities. 

She felt absolutely foolish.

Their swaying had pretty much come to a halt. “Maura,” Jane said cautiously, her utterance most definitely a question because even now, she needed to be sure that she wasn’t misreading the situation.

Maura had allowed her expression to fall into one that was enlightened. “I want to kiss you.” 

“You do?” 

“Yes.” The answer was barely audible but it was certain.

They were already so close, noses nearly touching. Jane moved just a fraction of an inch closer and that was all the encouragement Maura needed. It was a whisper of a touch, their lips hardly connecting. Jane’s eyes fluttered closed then opened soon after, the contact had been so fleeting she had to wonder if it happened at all. Then Maura pushed forward with more bravado. This time their lips were pressed together more firmly, locking into place. 

It was sweet, gentle.

The kissing never really intensified but it was steady, freeing. 

Jane had not truly understood her feelings until this very moment. That a crush on the boss’s daughter had virtually become less infatuation and more an adoring, deep bond that had been nurtured over the past couple of months.

The kiss ended and when Jane pulled back, she took in the awed expression on her friend’s face. It was like everything that Maura had seemed to be cataloging, scrutinizing, considering over the last few weeks became more than just theory. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time,” Jane confessed. 

“I think I have too,” Maura said in return.

Jane felt her lips stretch into a smile. “Do you wanna go back to the table?”

Maura nodded, her smile one of appreciation. Jane suspected her friend might need a little space to process this. 

Once seated, they had both become incredibly shy, quiet.

“Jane…” “Maura…”

They both chuckled. Jane motioned toward her, “You first.”

“I wanted to ask you to be patient with me,” Maura said tentatively. She seemed both pensive and hopeful. “Everything I’m feeling. It’s a little overwhelming.”

“You are worth waiting for,” Jane assured.

Even in the low light, Jane could see Maura blushing. Her friend cleared her throat, before saying, “You wanted to say something?”

_I love you._

Again, it didn’t seem like the right time. Maura had just asked for patience. So instead, Jane said, “I just wanted you to know that I am not in any rush, but I definitely wouldn’t mind kissing you like that again.”

“I enjoyed kissing you too,” Maura said softly.

They paid the tab.

They had just managed to reach Maura’s car, before Jane was being kissed again. She had been pressed into the driver’s side door somewhat roughly, Maura fisting the lapels of her jacket tightly as if that was her anchor to the solid ground beneath their feet. It shouldn’t have surprised her, the passion behind Maura’s kisses. But it did.

And sweet baby Jesus in heaven, she was practically melting with emotions threatening to liquefy her from the inside out.

And Jane just let herself be kissed. Maura’s body leaned into hers, her weight kept Jane secure, practically defenseless. Her arms remained at her sides; palms flat against the surface of the car because touching Maura would lead to breaking her promise of taking things slow. But Maura was a really, really, _really_ great kisser and Jane was exerting a lot of control to stay steady, to just enjoy this.

Maura caught Jane’s lower lip between her teeth, a little tug and Jane couldn’t hold back her groan of approval. Jane had wanted to keep her hands to herself, but now Maura wasn’t playing fair.

Her hands were cupping Maura’s face before she even had processed the movement, her fingertips loosely tangled in the soft tresses she had often dreamed about as she more aggressively kissed the doctor, getting in a little bite of her own that had Maura gasping into her mouth.

“I knew you were holding back,” Maura said playfully.

“You said be patient,” Jane reminded her in a voice that was almost a whine.

“You said you wanted to kiss me again.”

“I was trying to be a gentleman and is this really a good use of our time right now?”

Jane had not let Maura go, wouldn’t dream of pulling back just yet.

But Mother Nature had other plans.

A large drop of rain hit Jane’s forehead. It was the only warning before the sky opened up. One or both of them let out an undignified squeak at the sudden cold.

Jane barked out a laugh before she said, “Oh my God, unlock the car Maura!”

They scrambled to get inside and slammed the doors shut to keep the sudden wet, cold rain out.

For a moment they were silent. In the next moment, they were laughing.

“Oh my God, look at us!” Jane said, swiping at the rainwater on her jacket. She glanced at Maura, almost rolled her eyes. “OK, how is it I look like a drowned rat and you are still breathtakingly beautiful?”

Maura’s laughter died out after that statement. Her expression was shy again. 

“I also think you’re amazing,” Jane added. She reached over to push a strand of wet hair off of Maura’s forehead, literally the only thing out of place.

Maura’s smile was dazzling. She lightly took hold of Jane’s wrist, placed a soft kiss to her palm. “Let’s go home.” 

The kiss sent a spark up Jane’s arm and right into her chest. And this time the word ‘home’ felt like more than just a place. It felt like belonging. It felt like love. 


	14. Jane Was Having A Day

The previous night, Jane had bemoaned the lack of action as doorman at Cambridge. 

“I would think Maura alone would be keeping you busy,” Charles had said in response. “What other action could you possibly need?”

Predictably, it wasn’t long before everyone at Cambridge had deduced that Jane and Maura were a thing. It took less than a day, literally. 

It felt as if the residents had just been playing a game of ‘wait and see’. Which, naturally, made Jane feel like an even bigger idiot about not asking Maura out sooner, but she found solace in the fact that Maura had been trying to ignore her feelings on the matter as well. They were both scared of what it would mean, but they were finally brave enough to give it a try. 

So, Mrs. Yates ordered a huge assortment of flowers for them. Kitty had surprised Jane with a hug at the elevator and was genuinely happy for her. Darren had clapped a hand on her shoulder and ribbed her about snagging a ‘hot, rich one’ and she nearly knocked his teeth in. Mr. Handlebar Mustache sneered at her as usual which was perfectly fine by Jane. 

And then there was Charles. 

“Okay first of all, ew,” Jane replied with undisguised revulsion. “Don’t ever imply you’ve been thinking about me or Maura in a sexual context ever again. Secondly, I just mean that ‘security’ is in my job description and the closest I’ve come to using that skillset has been to throw out unruly drunk men trying to apologize to their girlfriends for being creeps.” 

Charles grinned that smarmy grin that he occasionally deployed. “I’m sorry for being a cad.” She knew he wasn’t. His expression softened and he gently warned, “The last time you left here with gun in hand, you ran into trouble. You almost didn’t come back. Just be careful what you wish for, alright kid?” 

And now, she wanted to take it all back. She didn’t want anything more than what she had. Her job was cushy, she and Maura were on the precipice of a beautiful thing and she was pretty close to finally acquiring her own car. Forget this cowboy imagery she had been dreaming up since beginning her job at Cambridge. She didn’t want that anymore. She didn’t need that anymore. 

**9 a.m.**

Jane stood next to Frost as they viewed the body together. Maura had done her examination. She noted that some hair on his chest had been shaved away, presumably where he wore a wire. The poor man had been made. Undercover drug operations were such a potentially deadly assignment. 

Jane’s arms were crossed as she looked over the man’s face, so pallid now. So lifeless. She wondered if circumstances would have been different had the Boston Police Department had given her a chance. Could she have changed his trajectory? Or would she be investigating his death?

“Danny graduated ahead of me.” 

“He was a good guy,” Frost said. “I thought you might want to pay your respects.” 

Jane nodded. “Thank you, Frost. I mean it.” 

“Of course,” Frost said. Before he walked away, he told her, “I’m still mad about the phone, by the way.” 

The tone of his voice suggested he wasn’t anymore. She smiled, “I know.”

As he walked out, Maura came back in. She felt Maura’s hand rest on her forearm and gave it a reassuring rub. “Are you okay?” 

Jane nodded again. “Yeah, it’s just a shame, ya know? He was one of the good ones.”

“Barry and Gabriel are on the case. They will find out who did this,” Maura assured. It wasn’t like Maura to make promises on cases that were still ongoing. 

**10:29 a.m.**

“Only you would bring your tortoise to work,” Jane said in amusement, an eyebrow quirked. 

“He hasn’t been feeling well,” Maura said a little defensively. “I didn’t want to leave him alone.” 

“I’ve told you you’re weird, right?”

“Yes. Many times.” 

**11:40 a.m.**

She had been looking for Frost for an update but found Bobby instead. 

“There’s no way, Bobby,” Jane said sternly. “There was no way Danny was dirty.” 

“You don’t think it’s odd? A retired detective gets into the morgue angry as hell and ready to kill to keep his secret. The medical examiner gets kidnapped. A mob boss learns details about possible suspects that might have killed his son and then murders one of them? How do you think that information is getting out?” 

“Well it sure as hell isn’t Danny, Bobby! Just drop it,” Jane nearly growled. 

“All I’m saying is the BPD needs to be investigated, don’t you think? Too many weird things happening to our boys lately.”

She didn’t miss the use of the words ‘our boys’. 

Bobby Marino wasn’t exactly her favorite person. He and Danny graduated from the academy together. He had also aggressively tried to ask her out for almost the entire time he was there. When they had parted ways, he had finally come to understand she was not interested for one obvious reason and he backed off. But occasionally he would still shoot her a lecherous glance and it made her skin crawl. 

But worst of all, he was disparaging Danny. She couldn’t let Bobby soil Danny’s name. 

“I trust Frost and Dean to do everything they can to find Danny’s killer.” 

Bobby glowered at her, a reaction she wasn’t expecting. It was like he didn’t want justice for Danny at all. Her brief suspicions were interrupted by Frost and Dean walking back into the bullpen before either of them could continue to speak. 

They had a young woman with them. She seemed strung out, but one look at Bobby and the woman’s eyes widened significantly in fear. Jane felt her skin tingle again, but she ignored it. Crack addicts were not fans of cops. Recognizing Bobby was probably from the memory of a prior arrest. 

It wasn’t like Jane to ignore her instincts.

Maybe it was Charles’ words from earlier that cautioned her. 

**1:15 p.m.**

Jane wasn’t exactly sure how she got to this point. The power was out. The phone lines were dead. Most of the cops, including Frost and Dean, were at the site where they found Danny’s body. An officer involved death like this usually required the use of nearly every resource at the precinct’s disposal, so she felt utterly alone and slightly panicked. 

The witness had somehow gotten out of the interrogation room and the poor woman was hysterical. 

Jane heard gunfire above their heads and two things crossed her mind: she needed to find Maura and make sure she was safe. She needed to get the witness somewhere safe. Maybe Bobby had been right. Something corrupt had infested this precinct. 

They went into the stairwell. 

Bobby kicked open a door from a flight of steps above them and limped his way down. He had been shot in the leg. The witness nearly went into a panic behind her.

“We’re under attack,” he told her. “I think those drug runners are looking for something tied to Danny’s murder.” 

“I don’t have a weapon,” Jane said helplessly.

“This is all I got on me,” he said, holding his firearm for her to see. “Let’s move down. There’s nothing but trouble up there.” 

“Please, no,” the young woman said, clinging to Jane. 

“Hey it’s okay,” Jane said to her. “It’s okay.” 

But it wasn’t going to be okay. 

The gunshot rang in her ears since Bobby was so close. She jumped back as she was suddenly face to face with a very dead woman, slumped in the corner. The witness had a hole in her chest and wide, surprised eyes. Jane turned to Bobby in shocked horror as he was lowering his weapon. He shook his head, “I’m sorry you had to see that, Jane, but she was just going to slow us down.” 

Jane looked at him in surprise. “Us? What do you mean us?” 

**1:33 p.m.**

Bobby pushed Jane through the morgue doors much to Maura’s surprise. She had taken shelter behind a table, but she wasn’t necessarily hidden. 

“All I want is the cigarette pack,” Bobby said. “That’s it. Give that to me, I’ll let her go.” 

“What? Cigarettes?” Jane repeated. Bobby pushed the gun into her back a bit harder, maybe in an effort to shut her up. She didn’t. “You’re pointing a gun at me over _cigarettes_?” And after a moment to think, she felt her heart drop a little. “Danny didn’t smoke.” 

Maura spoke up with tremors of fear in her words. “You’re right. No evidence in his lungs. I think what he’s looking for is the camera our crime unit found inside.” 

“I don’t care what anyone says about women in law enforcement,” Bobby cracked. “You two are sharp as tacks. Now get me that camera or I kill her.” Bobby wrapped a strong arm around Jane’s neck and pulled her in tight. Maura stood frozen. He barked, “Now!” 

And so, this is how it went. 

Maura did retrieve the camera. He kept Jane close while he pocketed it. And he probably would have kept his promise to let her go, but Bobby was having a bad day.

An armed gunman came into the morgue. He explained that they were surrounded outside. That somehow, the other cops had grown wise to what was happening inside the precinct. Bobby was furious. He shot the gunman dead out of anger. Maura screamed. He then grabbed ahold of Jane again and promised, “I will kill you if I don’t get out of this.” 

Jane could hear Maura yelling out for her as she was dragged away. 

**1:48 p.m.**

They went out the entry doors, breaking out into the sunlight. Jane was his shield. 

Across the street were several cars, countless officers lined up all with guns aimed at the two of them. 

Danny. 

The young woman. 

God knew who else. All dead at Bobby’s hands. 

She didn’t care how they did it, but he couldn’t be allowed to hurt anyone else. 

Jane screamed in torment, “Shoot him!” Frost, Dean and many other uniforms were pointing their weapons, but they weren’t _doing_ anything. She screamed it again, “ _Shoot_ him!” Bobby was dragging her down the walk as she struggled harder now. Frost, Dean, none of them were moving, and she could see them talking. Trying to figure out what to do. They didn’t have a good shot, she knew this. And if they got too far, Bobby would shoot her anyway and make a run for it. 

Bobby’s arm was across her chest still and she was desperately trying to pull away, to get free enough to give them the space they needed. 

The gun was against her neck. It felt so cold against her heated skin. 

“You always were such a bitch, you know that?” Bobby hissed in her ear. “I promise, when I’m done with you, I’ll make sure I go after everyone else you care about.”

At that declaration, Jane almost stopped struggling. 

“I’ll go after your brother. Your mother. Your girlfriend. All of them.” 

“Bobby, no…”

“No one will be safe, Jane.” 

Jane had seen what Bobby was capable of. He was a psychopath. And knowing this she knew she had no choice. Her struggle became something new. She released Bobby’s arm and took ahold of the hand holding the gun instead. Adrenaline, perhaps, gave her the strength she needed to pull the gun around to her front, to push the barrel into her stomach. Fear helped her to make her next decision. She paused for only a millisecond but her choice had been made clear. She had the best kill shot and she needed to take it.

She pulled the trigger. 

The bullet ripped through her and presumably out Bobby’s back. His loud groan told her she hit the mark. And then this happened next. 

They fell. 

She hit the concrete, hard and Bobby’s body rolled away. She blinked. Maura was above her suddenly pressing hands into her stomach. She heard Dean hollering for medics. 

“I’m sorry…,” Jane choked out. She placed a hand on top of Maura’s. Felt her blood wash over both of their hands. It was warm, sticky. It was a lot. “How much blood….do you think a body holds?”

Don’t cry, Jane. Don’t cry. 

“Don’t talk, okay,” Maura said, her level of calm mixed with the teary eyes was somewhat disturbing. Jane presumed it was Maura trying to turn off emotions and fall into the role of doctor. “Just lie still. Help is coming.” 

“It’s probably a lot, right?” Jane said drolly, a warm bile in her throat. She coughed and realized it wasn’t bile. It was blood. “Like. A gallon. That’s a lot.”

“Shh,” Maura said, now her tears were flowing freely, but she wasn’t sobbing. Her emotional walls were beginning to crumble, Jane could see that. And it was because of her that Maura looked so sad. She was still putting so much pressure on Jane’s stomach as she said, “You’re going to be okay, Jane.” 

Jane chuckled. Or at least she thought she did. It sounded a little garbled. “Don’t lie to me.” 

“I never lie, Jane,” Maura said sternly, her face falling into one of sheer determination. As if she had the power to change the fates.

“He was going to kill… everyone I love…,” Jane said with much effort. She needed to explain herself. “I… I…love…”

_I love you I love you I love you_

“I know, I know,” Maura said, trying valiantly to hold her tears at bay again. Her voice was a bit shrill as she turned to yell, “Frost! Please!”

Jane felt her eyes water. She tried to speak again but it was so difficult now.

“Jane, it’s okay,” Maura said again, unable to hide the shake in her voice. “We can talk about anything you want after you get help. I promise.”

Loss of consciousness was pulling at all sides of her vision. Maura was fading, both her image and her voice. 

Jane fought. She fought so hard to keep her eyes open. To hold that contact for as long as possible. To transmit how much she loved Maura by sheer telepathy. It was hard to tell if Maura got the message. Everything was so blurry, getting so dark. 

***

**“You can’t leave.”**

The voice cut through the white noise. Jane couldn’t see anything. It was dark. She tried to answer but her throat was dry. 

“The first time you really made me laugh was at the elevator. I offered to help you with… and you replied, ‘you know where I live.’ Obviously, the joke being your room…. the building in which I lived. You seemed … nervous. I couldn’t pinpoint why. But from that point on, I’ve done nothing but laugh when I’m with you. I never laughed that much before meeting you.” 

_Maura?_ Jane’s own voice was like a vibration, bouncing around her skull. She tried to blink, then realized it was dark because her eyes were shut. She couldn’t open them. 

There was static. Then her voice filtered back in, sentences were broken as the words trickled in and out.

“….and my heart was hammering. Your hands were on my hips, shifting me… face this non-existent pitcher… awkwardly holding this yard stick like a baseball bat. And you stayed with me through the motion…jumped back from me… stumbling over an apology. I should’ve figured it out then. But I had never met anyone like you, Jane. I didn’t want to think about it too much.” 

_Maura!_ She couldn’t speak, yell, scream, cry. 

“You can’t leave.” 

“Your family is here every day…I keep … dinner was so much fun. How loving your mother and father were. How readily Frankie treated me like his sister.”

“Jorge has messaged me. He hopes you’ll be okay. In fact, the entire class has sent flowers. And cards.” 

“Kitty and Mrs. Yates are here with me today…. Charles promised to stop in later.” 

“Please don’t leave.” 

_“You don’t see it, do you? You are gorgeous, my friend.”_

Don’t leave.

_“Don’t you leave her.”_

_I won’t!_ Jane wanted to scream it so bad, it almost felt like her throat was burning from the effort and yet no sound left her lips. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t move. 

She couldn’t move. 

_“You would be with me which means you would undoubtedly belong there.”_

“The doctors say you might not wake up. And I know the probability, I know the math, I know the truth of what he says, it just….it breaks my heart to hear it. But I’ll keep coming back. I’ll keep talking to you. I won’t leave you alone.” 

“…. you were tied to that chair and I don’t know how I got through that …I don’t know how _you_ got through that…. you joked, you _always_ joke and it wasn’t funny. You could’ve died…. your laugh is always so deep when you recall how Frost slammed Mel into the counter….”

“You can’t leave, Jane.”

_I’m trying to get to you, Maura. I’m trying so hard._

“Because I love you.” 

_You love me? Are you serious? You **love**_ _me? I… you…_

“Jane?” 

Jane felt something. It was soft against her forehead. Another illusion? Just like the voice? 

_You wait until I’m in a coma…to tell me…_

“You love me,” Jane rasped. The sound of her own voice was a little jarring. It didn’t sound like an echo anymore but it was definitely hoarse and it hurt so much. The harsh smell of antiseptic hit her nose. The blanket was rough against her fingers. She heard Maura say it, right? It wasn’t a dream? 

“You love me?” 

There was something very soft, very pliant pressed against her chapped lips. A rumor of a kiss. A soft ‘yes’. 

She felt weightless again. Not grounded. 

“Jane? Stay with me, okay? Just open your eyes for me?”

She could hear Maura begging, pleading. So, she did. She forced her eyes open. 

An ocean of green met her increasingly swimming vision. She thinks she sees a smile, feels the press of lips against her forehead, hears a tearful laugh. Her arm feels like a lead weight, but she tries to move it. She wants to grab onto something _Maura_. Anything. Her arm, her hand. Has to be sure she’s awake. 

“I shouldn’t have waited.” 

Jane sees her more clearly. “What? Waited?” 

“I shouldn’t have waited until you were in a coma,” Maura repeated. 

“You heard that?” Jane said slowly. Her lips still tingled. “Did you just kiss me awake like a Disney princess?” 

She felt Maura shake with a laugh, her fingers desperately clutched her gown tighter. Her golden curls curtained around Jane’s head as she leaned back down, brought their foreheads together. She whispered softly, “I guess I did.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be… not how I wanted you to…,” Jane began, swallowing away the lump in her throat. She switched tactics. A joke. Her go to when something was too hard to say. “I have coma breath, you know. Could’ve let a girl swish some Listerine first.” 

Again, she felt Maura’s laugh just as much as she could hear it. 

“You’re not funny.” 

“Shut up. I’m a riot.”

***

She must have dozed off.

Maura was gazing at her and pressed up against her side in the most uncomfortable bed imaginable, her expression adoring yet also a little sad. Jane made a feeble attempt to raise her arm. She wanted so desperately to touch Maura.

“I wanted to be angry with you,” Maura admitted in the softest of voices. “I was angry, but each day passed and you weren’t… you weren’t moving.”

“Maura,” Jane said, the smallest of regret in her tone.

“I kept thinking I could have done more,” Maura went on. “But I fail to see how I could have done anything.”

Maura was just so soft spoken. So mournful. It was Jane’s fault. 

“All I could think about was keeping him away from you. They were never going to take the shot. I had to.”

Maura nodded minutely. “I know you felt that way. I wanted so much to believe you could have made a different choice but ultimately, you are who you are, Jane. I know your decision was not for yourself, but for the people you love.”

Jane tried to move again and groaned. “I never intended to hurt you.”

“I know.”

Jane blinked. She felt so tired, worn down and a little warm under the weight of Maura and the blankets. “I can’t stay awake… don’t leave?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

It would be another week before Constance would show up. Maura was sitting next to Jane’s bed and they were laughing about something Kitty related, until they noticed her. Maura hadn’t said anything about her mother’s take on their new relationship status and Jane got the feeling that maybe it wasn’t good judging by her silence. Jane had to believe that if Constance really had issue with it, though, she would have woken up to a pink slip taped to her forehead.

She bravely looked Constance in the eye as if to dare her to say or do anything that would trivialize the relationship in any way.

“You’ve been occupying Maura’s time again, I see.”

Yep. Already off to a _great_ start.

“Mother,” Maura began, but quieted when Constance raised her hand.

“My halls have been rather quiet. At what point should I be expecting my doorman back?”

Jane eyed her boss curiously. She felt Maura’s hand slip into hers, a move that Constance didn’t miss but also didn’t comment on. The weight of Maura’s hand boosted her courage.

“If I had my way, I’d be standing at the elevator now.”

Constance smirked. She honest to goodness smirked! “Good answer. But I think my daughter would prefer to keep a close eye on you for a little while. And my residents have assured me they will manage while you heal.”

Firstly, Jane was amazed that she had left such an impression on the residents of Cambridge. Secondly….

“Uh, that could take months, Mrs. Isles.”

Constance gave them both a small nod in response before leaving just as quietly as she arrived.

Jane was thunderstruck. “Was that your mom’s way of saying she likes me? I think she likes me. I didn’t know she was capable of liking anyone.”

Maura playfully hit Jane’s arm. “Stop. And she’s always liked you.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jane said with doubt, accompanying her refute with a grin.

“Doesn’t matter if she does. I love you, Jane. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“Is that right?” Jane said playfully, unconsciously leaning towards Maura. 

Maura met her halfway, whispered ‘yes’ before closing the gap and pressing her lips strongly against Jane’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I plan on one more chappy. My barebones outline actually ended a couple of chapters ago so I’ve been just letting Jane take me wherever she wants to. Thanks so much for all the love and remarks and such. It’s been such a comfort in my life. 


	15. No More Bad Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't express my thanks enough. Hope you enjoy.

Jane swung open the door to her apartment to put a stop to the persistent knocking. 

It was Maura. It was a frowning Maura. Jane knew it would be, but she had hoped to avoid her for a little while longer. Well, no, not avoid Maura. Maura was the sun, the moon and the stars combined. Jane would never tire of being near Maura, beside Maura, _in bed_ with Maura. Maura was great, fantastic. 

What she wanted was to avoid everything and everyone else. Secreting off to the apartment she didn’t live in anymore turned out to be the worst hiding spot in the history of ever. She had been discovered in less than an hour. 

“You look terrible.” 

Jane forced a grin. “Thank you.” 

“Not a compliment.” 

“Obviously.” 

Jane turned, but left her door open which was a clear signal for Maura to follow her. Her girlfriend was impeccably dressed, as usual. Jane was still in her sweatpants and hoodie. She got as close to a flop as she could landing on the pillow mountain she had created on the couch. She returned her attention to her laptop playing cute puppy videos set to classical music. Maura shut the laptop. 

“Hey!”

“We’re going to be late,” Maura told her pointedly. She looked at her gleaming gold watch (Jane was actually surprised Maura used her watch as a watch and not as an accessary). “The Robber is going to be packed by the time we get there.” 

“Please don’t make me go,” Jane whined.

Maura barely suppressed a smirk. “It’s Tommy’s birthday. Angela worked very hard on this.”

“My mother has been calling me non-stop for three months. I _need_ peace.” 

“No, you’ve been holed up in the condo for three months. You need to see your family, Jane. You promised them.” 

“I see my family.” 

“You only allow Frankie into the condo.” 

“Because he’s not overbearing or all kissy and huggy!” 

Maura smiled down at her affectionately. “You know you want to go.” 

“I honestly _don’t_ want to go,” Jane said resolute, but she knew that Maura was right. Maura was _always_ right, but she didn’t want to give in that easily. No matter that she had yet to win any disagreements when Maura was tenacious like this. Jane opened her laptop again and said, “Besides, I’m still packing my things.” 

Maura shut the laptop again. Jane glared but Maura was immune to such antics.

“Jane, this apartment was furnished when you moved in.”

“I’m not going to win this, am I?” 

“No.” Maura moved Jane’s leg to sit down next to her. Jane threw her leg over Maura’s lap and pouted. Her girlfriend was not moved. “Jane, your entire family and all of your friends are waiting for you. This event is just as much about you as it is Tommy. It will be the first time in a while that everyone has been together. The first time they will see you up and walking around. Everyone misses you.” 

Damn, Maura was rivaling Angela in the guilt trip department right now.

Jane shut her eyes, muttered a few choice words that would normally prompt Maura to bring out the swear jar and drop a handful of quarters in. Reluctantly, she sat up straight and asked with the utmost seriousness, “Can I bring my gun?”

“Absolutely not.”

***

The Robber had become her spot. Before the whole gunshot thing, she had periodically met Frost here. They would drink, play pool. He would blow off some steam regarding work (mostly related to Dean being an ass). He would pick her brain if he was stumped on a case. The cellphone incident aside they had become good friends. She had considered herself so lucky when she first moved back to Boston. Meeting Maura and then Frost? They had brought her social media friend count to a grand total of three (Frankie being the first). 

Jane simply didn’t make friends and then suddenly she had two in less than a week.

Walking up to the doors, the letter ‘e’ winked at her trying damn hard to stay lit for the nights festivities. Jane felt awash with feelings of eagerness and that was unexpected. She missed coming out here. She actually missed sharing food and drink with Frost, Maura, Frankie.

What a difference a few months made.

When they entered the bar, they were greeted with an explosion of ‘Jane!’ and almost immediately surrounded. All her reminiscent feelings vanished quickly and were replaced with roaring social anxiety. Frankie embraced her first and laughed as she struggled to get out of it. He was back to being huggy again. 

“Janie, it is so good to see you without crutches,” Frankie said sincerely. “It’s just so damn good to see you up and about.”

Jane fought back tears; now willingly hugging Frankie tighter. “I love you too, Frankie.”

He then went to hug Maura and she could swear she heard him say ‘thank you’ but the crowd was so loud and boisterous. There was a steady stream of people following behind Frankie to say hello and to hug her. 

“My girl,” Frank said, smiling proudly. “Boston’s hero.”

“Pop, I’m not a hero,” Jane protested. “I was stupid.”

“You were _my_ Jane,” he said in return. He held her face, kissed her forehead. “But you need some of your mother’s cooking. So skinny!”

“Yeah, ok Pop,” Jane said, wrinkling her nose at her parent’s inevitable fussing. She endured another kiss before he moved on to hug Maura next. 

“My other brave girl!”

Maura blushed. “Mr. Rizzoli…”

Frank also gave her a kiss on the cheek, scolded, “I’ve told you to call me Frank. And you! Go to the bar and get something to eat! Both of you!”

Jane wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to escape. She pushed Maura further in. They dodged people and chairs, greeting and being greeted along the way. 

There was so much happening it was almost disorienting and due to the party, there was certainly more people than normal crowded in what felt like an increasingly shrinking space. There was dancing and laughing. The pool tables were all occupied by drunken patrons. The amount of cheerful people was actually mildly disgusting, but she had to admit it was also restorative. 

The world was ugly (as she had found out with unpleasant firsthand experience) but as she looked around, she was reminded at how beautiful it was too.

The jukebox began playing some 80s hairband music. She noticed there were balloons and streamers everywhere, sweeping over the tables in bright reds, blues and yellows. A big sign that said ‘Happy Birthday, Tommy!” 

Angela had done such a fantastic job. The food smelled amazing and she just knew her mother had been in the kitchen whipping up a huge feast. She spied Frost, Dean, Cavanaugh. Criminalist Susie and many other people from Maura’s lab. Kitty with her flavor of the week. Mrs. Yates, too, accompanied by a very older gentleman in a wheelchair. He had a wry smile. Kind blue eyes.

Jane took a second to think, then exclaimed, “Holy shit, is that Mr. Yates?” 

Maura smiled. “Yes, he hasn’t left the condo in many years. His health seems to be taking a turn for the better.” 

Charles and Darren were chatting it up with a bartender. When they reached them, Darren looked at her and well on his way to being smashed told her loudly, “Mr. Yates is _real_!”

Jane couldn’t help but feel just as scandalized. “Oh my God, I know! I don’t know if I believe it.”

Charles sighed. “Children, the both of you.”

Jane laughed with them both and let her eyes roam around while Maura ordered for them.

She recognized neighbors from down the street and people from high school. Did Angela find a yearbook and call all of their old friends? If so, she would need to have a long talk with her mother. If Casey Jones was here….

“Jane!” 

She turned around to find Tommy smiling so wide at her. He looked so young still, but he was an adult now. A rebellious 25-year-old with a new lease on life and a messy set of short, spiky hair on his head. Still a punk. He rushed her and she groaned in pain when he hugged her tight. He didn’t hear her or didn’t care. They rocked a little and admittedly, she was beginning to feel super emotional all over again. Why did her brothers have to start acting like actual humans? 

But it had been such a very long time since she had seen her little brother this happy. It was a far cry from the miserable boy she saw opposite the glass between them when she first went to visit him. She instinctively pulled him a little closer. 

“Jane, wow! When the hell did you make all these friends?” Tommy asked, a huge grin on his face when he pulled away from the embrace.

Jane shoved him completely away. With a deep frown, she said, “And to think I was about to wish you a happy birthday.” 

“Maura,” Tommy said kindly, turning to hug her next. “Thank you for taking care of her. She’s not the best patient.”

Jane rolled her eyes. 

“She’s not,” Maura agreed, handing over a bottle of beer to Jane. “But then she wouldn’t be Jane if she was.”

“When she inevitably screws this up, call me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively holding up his pinky and thumb in such a way it mimicked a phone.

Jane looked at them both, incredulous. “I’m standing right here. I feel like I shouldn’t have to say that.”

Tommy laughed heartily. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t piss you off, Janie.”

“Tommy,” Jane said, struck with a bit of guilt she wasn’t expecting. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

Tommy looked serious for a moment, then smiled. He embraced her again tightly. “I wanna do better, ya know.”

“I want to help, if you’ll let me?” Jane said hopefully.

Maura chimed in. “We both do.”

Tommy grinned big again. He landed a wet kiss on Jane’s cheek (she groaned) and a daintier one on Maura’s. “Happy birthday to me!”

He was definitely different. Like, he clearly was full of himself and that was unlikely to change. But she had never seen him this _considerate_ before. Like he cared about people other than himself. Like he really did care about her and valued her opinion of him. She had forgotten that Tommy Rizzoli was an individual capable of change. He looked healthy. Frankie had said he stopped drinking. He was looking into a trade school. Tommy Rizzoli’s life was finally showing some promise. 

“Jane Clementine Rizzoli!” 

Well, that was _not_ the voice of someone happy to see her. Angela was in her face next, fussing with her jacket, straightening it. “Jane, you couldn’t find something nicer to wear for your brother’s birthday party??” 

“Ma!” Jane whined, comically slapping Angela’s hands away. “Stop it!” 

“Maura was supposed to be sprucing up your closet!” 

“ _Ma!_ ” 

Maura chuckled. “Baby steps, Angela.” 

“Maura!” Jane exclaimed next. She looked around at the amused people around her, “There is nothing wrong with the clothes I wear!” 

“You look like a doorman,” Frost piped in, the next in line to hug her. “You do own other stuff besides suits, right?” 

“This is why I wanted to stay home,” Jane said between her teeth, leaning down to say that in Maura’s ear. Her girlfriend just laughed in return which had Jane unconsciously grin back. Staying mad at Maura had pretty much been impossible since day one. It wasn’t going to change now. 

Eventually, the attention was back on the party and not on her. She could finally breathe. 

***

Jane wasn’t going to say it out loud lest she wanted to open herself up to Maura’s playful teasing, but she was glad she had come to the party. She was happy to be here even though physically she was starting to feel the strain of standing up for more than a couple of hours. It was good to have the entire Rizzoli clan in one spot. And while Tommy was being a total ass with his comment regarding her friends, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Jane didn’t have a lot of friends. Not too many after high school. Fewer in the academy. Only one in New York. 

Now she was surrounded by people almost all of whom had touched her life or she theirs in ways she hadn’t imagined.

A couple of hours in, she and Maura had retired to a booth with Frost and Frankie. They talked about Jane returning to work in a week. And she congratulated Frost for going two months without puking at the sight of a dead body. But Frankie was the real surprise at the table as he announced, “I’m going to school.” 

He was smiling shyly. 

“Frankie, that’s great!” Jane said excitedly. 

“It’s just community college,” Frankie said a little dismissively. “Business administration. I’m still working with Pop.”

“I don’t care if you were going to major in sharpening pencils,” Jane told him. “This is a good thing, Frankie.” 

Her brother smiled widely. “Well, I can’t say that my big sister didn’t inspire me to be more than I am.” 

Touched as she was, Jane laughed. “I’m a doorman. A job you helped me get, by the way.” 

Frost was taking a sip when he mumbled a ‘mm-mm’ into the bottle, shaking his head and holding up a finger to jump into the conversation. “I think we can all agree you’ve made being a doorman more exciting than that job should ever be.” 

Frankie tipped his bottle at Frost. “This is true. Only my sister could still find a way to be a cop from an elevator door.” 

“Well, I’m hoping that is a trend that has lost its momentum,” Maura piped in, shooting Jane a sober look. 

Jane looked between the three of them, ultimately sighing in resignation. “I will try a little harder to just stand at my little wooden podium next to the bright shiny doors from now on. Happy?” 

Maura quickly kissed her cheek and said, “Very much so.” 

The table continued to talk, to laugh. The whole scene comforted her. 

Jane had always wanted to be a detective. She wanted to help people. It was that drive that had her digging into the trash at a night club to find evidence against an angry wife. It was what made her chase after Maura ready to confront a mob boss and whatever army he had with him to get her back. It had her taking a bullet, self-inflicted, whatever it took to stop a madman from hurting anyone else ever again. 

It had taken Jane a long time to realize something else, though. As she took in the sight of the people in the bar. The people from her building, Mrs. Yates and Kitty. Charles and Darren. She took in her friends from the crime unit, Frost and even Dean. It became very clear to her that she _was_ helping people. Just not in the way she had envisioned. And in turn, they had helped her look at life in a completely different way. 

She didn’t have to be a cop to help people. But as two familiar ringtones filled the air, she felt a customary jolt of adrenaline because she knew what those sounds meant. 

“Frost.” 

“Isles.” 

Jane and Frankie exchanged looks while the detective and medical examiner spoke quickly. They both looked at the table apologetically. Frost began to rise, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I got stuck being on call, I’m sorry, Jane. Tell Tommy I wish him the best. See you there, Doc?” 

“Yes,” Maura said as Frost went to find Dean. She looked at Jane, and when she was met with Jane’s puppy dog eyes, she shook her head vigorously. “No, Jane. What did you just promise?” 

“I didn’t promise! I said I would try,” Jane corrected. “Like, I’ll try starting tomorrow.” 

“Jane…” 

Frankie snickered. 

Jane nearly pleaded. “Last time, okay? I promise to stay behind the tape.” 

“It’s a fire.” 

“Even better! I can’t get too close.” 

Maura rose from her seat to look down at Jane, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not completely healed.” 

“But she doesn’t need crutches!” Frankie chimed in. 

“See, I’m good to go,” Jane said, giving her brother a no-look fist bump. 

“You’ve been drinking,” Maura reasoned. 

“No more than you,” Jane challenged. 

“Jane,” Maura said again, shutting her eyes. 

“Maura,” Jane smirked. “I’m gonna go. Might as well be in the safety of your Prius.” Still, Maura was unyielding. Jane clasped her hands together saying ‘please, please’ over and over again. Frankie’s snickering got louder. 

Her girlfriend looked to the sky briefly, relenting. “A bomb went off outside an awards ceremony. It’s too hot to inspect the scene, but they want me on site. _You_ will stay in the car.” 

“Yes, I _love_ you,” Jane said, standing up and grabbing Maura’s face to kiss her quickly. “Let’s go.” 

As Jane went toward the exit, she heard Maura say after her, “In the car, Jane!” 

“In the car! Absolutely!” 

When Maura finally caught up to her at the Prius, they stood on either side of it for a moment, looking at each other over the roof of the car. The world around them came to a stop, just for a brief second. And Jane felt emboldened by seeing the love of her life looking back at her with such tenderness, such contentment.

“I haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

Jane squinted her eyes a little before repeating, “Like this?”

“Spirited.”

Jane smirked at her. Maura smiled. 

“Can I drive?” 

“No. Get in.” 

They both slid into their seats. Maura started the car. 

“Okay. I’ll drive next time.”

Maura paused in her movements to say, “I thought we established this would be the last time?” 

“Right, right. Last time.”

They both knew it wasn’t going to be the last time. 

_Can’t Believe All the Signs That I Missed_


End file.
